Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.

Glee, Shake The Glitter (2/3)

2011-06-14T07:19:44Z

Title: Shake The Glitter
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R/NC-17, eventually.
Word Count: ~3100
Spoilers: The first 13 episodes of season 1, because I came up with this and wrote most of it during the hiatus waiting for the back 9.
Disclaimer: I don't own it or any of the characters used within, I'm just borrowing them with the promise to put them back where they belong when I'm done with them, scout's honor. I do abuse italics quite heavily in this chapter, though.
Summary: That's what they get for waking up in Vegas. (See part one for the full kink_meme prompt.)

Part 1

Rachel is employing every breathing warm-up she can think of to try and calm herself down right now, but considering she knows she had at least six shots independent of the drinks that were shoved into her hands last night by increasingly inebriated teammates, she isn’t particularly surprised that even her iron-willed focus is failing her.

That, and she’s about forty percent sure she’s still in shock, which would also account for her inability to concentrate on any one thought (other than the one that’s been screaming I HOOKED UP WITH QUINN FABRAY since she became conscious of that apparent fact) for more than the time it takes nausea to spin her stomach around from ravenous to on the verge of vomiting and back again. Which is to say about every ten seconds or so.

Staring at the faintly off-white paint of the bathroom ceiling seems to help, and Rachel eventually gives in to the urge to sink to the floor when her legs inform her that they’ve done quite enough standing for now. On the way down she inhales sharply, a muscle in her jaw jumping as her teeth clamp together, stifling a weak, inarticulate sound at the soreness between her legs that aches in a way that says last night was rough, and lengthy, and really, really good.

Something beneath her is hard and uncomfortable, jabbing her right in the thigh, and she tugs a stray high heel out from under herself, finding it tangled in a striped tank-top and a pair of red underwear she recognizes as her own. Both the shoe and shirt belong to Quinn, and Rachel knows because she remembers—

Ripping the shirt off of Quinn as they stumble into the bathroom is easier than Rachel expects, and she delights at the surprise written on the blonde’s face as her golden hair falls into her eyes.

“Weren’t expecting that, were you, Fabray?”

Quinn seems to have recovered herself, because all she does is grab Rachel by the waist and bring her in close for a kiss, thumbs rubbing along the hem of her skirt over her hipbones and making the petite diva squirm. They’re connected at the lips and at the hips and Rachel can’t stop running her hands over Quinn’s skin, which is simply divine and asking for further attention—so Rachel obliges by letting her lips trail down over Quinn’s throat. She wedges a thigh between Quinn’s to stop her discontented murmurs at losing Rachel’s mouth on hers and follows her exploring fingertips with her lips.

“What’re you—“

“Shhh… your skin… tastes amazing,” she whispers between kisses, each press of lips against soft skin more fevered and enthusiastic than the last, until Quinn’s hips are rolling against Rachel’s thigh, which is actually more like her waist until she kicks off her heels (because Rachel had discarded hers the moment they got back to the hotel. “The carpet is SO SOFT—“ “Rachel, shut up, the elevators are this way—“ “Is all the carpet in Vegas this soft? This is AMAZIN—“ Quinn had kissed her then, and finally satisfied a long-dwelled upon notion that Rachel Berry could indeed be quieted by an impromptu kiss) and then she sort of comes down hard in just the right way against a leg Rachel is lifting on purpose and Quinn can’t do anything but moan.

“Holy Christ Almighty…”

Quinn’s finally gone pliable and limp in Rachel’s arms, and Quinn can feel her smile against her skin briefly before she gasps at the sharp, not entirely unwelcome flash of pain that accompanies a nip to her shoulder. Rachel takes that as a cue to bite down harder next time, and when Quinn graduates from gasping to groaning, Rachel knows she’s doing something right.

Being the eager overachiever that she is, she does something right from chin to chest, laying claim to both collarbones and every other square inch of Quinn’s delightfully sensitive neck until the blonde is clutching at her shoulders begging her to stop and put her mouth to better use.

“What do you want me to do, Quinn?” Rachel is playing coy, toying with the bra straps that have begun to slip down pale shoulders, but a wicked grin overtakes Quinn’s mouth and she slides her hands firmly up the backs of Rachel’s thighs beneath her skirt until they meet the lacy edge of underwear and tease along her skin until goosebumps arise.

“I’m thinking maybe I should show you,” is the husky growling suggestion that Rachel can barely believe is coming from Quinn Fabray’s throat, but the blonde’s lips are closing around her earlobe and suddenly the roles are reversed, because Rachel finds herself sitting on the counter looking down at hazel eyes with blown pupils and there’s a denim-clad pelvis nestled snugly between her legs. She’s a little bit breathless and Quinn seems to be silently asking her permission even as her fingers curl around the top of her panties and it’s all Rachel can do to nod frantically and help lift herself up to aid Quinn’s intent.

“Yes, yes I think a demonstration of what you’d like me to do would be most info—oh. Ohhh, Quinn…”

Rachel scrambles to her feet, staring at her reflection in the mirror for a shred of stability as she tries to calm her breathing down from uncontrollable panting again. This was the last time Noah Puckerman (or Santana Lopez, for that matter, delinquents, the both of them!) could goad her into something by simply teasing her with a well-timed and irritatingly-successful, “Don’t be a baby.”

“Never again,” she tells herself aloud as she gulps down oxygen. She turns on the sink to splash a little cool water on her cheeks, which she’s embarrassed to admit (to no one but herself, but it’s embarrassing all the same) have flushed at the mere thought of what must have followed that recollection. Truth be told, she’s really only remembering things in bits and pieces, although some come through with much sharper clarity than others.

The thing is, though, even without a full recollection, she’s pretty sure she knows what she’d do if she had the chance to choose to do last night all over again, questionable drinks included. Because if it resulted in even a fraction of what little she could remember, well…

Her eyes look down at the hand not clutching her sheet-dress to her chest (with that goddamn handcuff on her wrist, she can’t even begin to bring herself to think about that yet) and blink owlishly at Quinn’s silver graduation ring, then back up at her own mussed reflection, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

It’s Vegas. These things happen. …Right?

For once, the brunette isn’t very convinced by her rationalization skills, and she isn’t very happy about it, either. Rachel leaves the sanctuary of the bathroom in a frustrated huff and starts moving around in the main room. By this time, Quinn has been staring at that stupid gold star on that stupid ring long enough to get stupid angry.

“Rachel?”

“No, it’s Sue Sylvester,” she shoots back, an eye roll accompanying the retort. Quinn shudders at the thought. That possibility introduces a whole new level of fucked up she isn't ready to address. Ever.

“What’s your problem, Berry?”

“Are we resorting to last names, now? Well, my problem, Fabray,” she growls, “is that you got me into this mess!”

Quinn rolls to her knees and turns, glaring at the door she’d been leaning against. (Because yes, she is having this conversation through a closed door. Yes, she is sitting in a dark closet. No, she isn't planning on coming out any time soon, thanks.) “Now, don’t blame me for this,” she throws back hotly.

“Oh? Who else do you suggest I blame, hmm?”

“Let’s see, there’s Puck, and Finn, and Kurt, and Tina, and oh, especially Santana and I don’t know, possibly yourself?” she shouts through the door, on her feet and pacing the dark space.

Rachel glares at the door, and Quinn rolls her eyes at the silence.

“Spare me your freaking dirty looks, Berry.”

Quietly seething (and a little unsettled) that Quinn knows her so well, she stomps over to the closet. The blonde braces herself for the door to go flying open with a bang her headache will only use to fuel the fire in her temples, but is instead met with an attack on her retinas as the brunette flicks on the closet light from the switch outside the door. Quinn claps a hand over her eyes immediately, moaning.

“Why are these lights so bright?” is one of the only coherent things that make it out of her mouth besides cursing for a full minute. “Was that really necessary?” she hisses through the wood, once she’s gathered herself and can squint against the devil-powered light bulbs searing her vision. All it earns her is a small noise of indifference and a self-righteous, “Serves you right.”

Quinn growls in response, and while Rachel mostly ignores the sound, some small part of her remembers that sound from last night, only before it was a little less angry and a lot more possessive and the brunette’s heart rate is increasing completely without her permission. Quinn’s next words bring it almost to a stop.

“Well if you’re so sure of this mess, Rachel, then answer me this: did we get hitched last night or not?” Quinn doesn’t realize her heart is thudding in her chest until it’s all she can hear, because Rachel’s silence is deafening. And telling. Either they did, and she knows, or she can’t remember the night clearly either. Which might be just as bad.

The blonde sighs, closing her eyes, and drops the hand that had tangled in her hair to the carpeted ground, sending a small object skittering away from her. Recognizing the sound, she blinks at the bottle as she draws it close and then sends a slew of thankful prayers to God above. Ibuprofen, praise be to Jesus. Quinn downs two capsules dry, her years as an athlete under Coach Sylvester’s instruction making it almost second nature, eager to have the monster headache methodically trying to beat its way out of her head subdued.

Quinn comes out of the closet (with a mental face-to-palm moment at the irony of that statement because apparently she came out last night all over the fucking place) a good ten minutes later feeling significantly more human to find Rachel still wrapped in the sheet, now perched on the edge of the bed by the nightstand, frowning at her wrist.

“Hey,” Quinn says softly, trying not to startle her. Rachel jumps anyway, but only for a second.

“Hey,” she says just as softly, argument already in the past and forgotten. (Well, not really, but as good as.) “I ordered room service.” Quinn must’ve lost control over her eyebrows and given her a look, because she adds, “Well, you’re hungover.” This time she knows she’s giving Rachel a look. “Okay, we’re both hungover.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Quinn shakes her head and tosses the pill bottle Rachel’s way. “I found ibuprofen in the closet.” Rachel’s taking a swig of water to wash down the tablets when Quinn adds, “Along with a strap-on.”

Cue spluttering choking from the usually composed Rachel Berry as a victorious smirk lodges itself firmly in place on Quinn Fabray’s lips.

“You couldn’t have waited until after I finished drinking?” she chokes out, dark eyes glaring across the room.

The blonde lifts and drops a shoulder. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Fuck, no wonder I can’t walk,” she grumbles to herself. Rachel flicks a glance at Quinn and rolls her eyes. “Oh, quit smirking and help me find the key to these damn handcuffs, because I am not going out in public with these on,” she says, shaking her hand, the metal clasped around her arm clinking for emphasis.

“Maybe I wasn’t planning on letting you out in public,” Quinn replies casually, leaning down to overturn a few pillows that had made it to the floor. When she stands up again to toss them to the bed, she finds Rachel is frozen to the spot with her mouth slightly agape, eyes fixed on her teammate.

Quinn realizes that perhaps there are a few more than four times Rachel Berry has been rendered speechless in the time that Quinn has known her, and a surge of heady pride roars through her with the knowledge (well, okay, fine, vague notion if you wanted to get technical) that she is the one who can render her as such. She readjusts her zebra-comforter-toga and only gives Rachel an impish half-smirk, hazel eyes flashing with something darker for just a moment and sending a jolt of warmth through the brunette’s system.

Oh, hell. Banter is easy enough to maintain. Quinn’s barbs had lost their bite long ago, and Rachel had learned that the ex-Cheerio usually was just looking for a verbal sparring partner. (As a well-read and loquacious young woman with an extensive vocabulary, it was only logical that she step up into that role, and the two had surprised the entire Glee club with their amicable bickering at the beginning of junior year.) But this… those words coupled with that look hinted at the memories that were flashing back and fading in and out and suddenly Rachel understands exactly why she has handcuffs hanging from one wrist and an aching, delicious soreness between her legs that is going to leave her walking a little funny for the rest of the trip.

She blinks rapidly and licks her lips, teeth closing over her bottom one as she attempted to swallow hard and found that her mouth has gone bone dry. Get a hold of yourself, Rachel. Surely you’ve already gotten your fill of Quinn Fabray. You can’t be that aroused from ONE look after a night like last night, can you? She shifts her gaze away and moves across the bed to search between the frame and the nightstand on the other side, one hand clutching at the sheet gathered around her. When she feels a familiar slickness between her thighs, she tries to hide the surprise on her face. Holy Moses— okay. Apparently you can.

Quinn sneaks a glance as Rachel’s arm searches, the sheet slips a little and wow is about all Quinn can think because, it’s Rachel’s back going on (and on, and on) in one smooth, soft looking plane. It occurs to her that it looks positively kissable, and Quinn decides right then to give up on trying not to have these thoughts because obviously she’s going to have them anyway and she kind of likes how delicious they are. (She isn’t quite to the point of admitting that she kind of wants to remember more from last night, since all of it was obviously explosively hot. But she’s close.)

Then she sees more than a few light red scratches running down from Rachel’s shoulder blades to the small of her back and she blushes, twisting her lips and turning away. Leave it to Rachel to be amazing at fucking everything. Or rather, just fucking her, it seems. Rachel rights suddenly and triumphantly, the small metal key that had fallen just behind the nightstand grasped tightly in her fingers.

She gets cleaned up with one of those showers that hurts so bad it had to be really, really good. (Okay, so she’s only remembered some of it, but the rest her imagination gladly fills in from what movies and trashy romance novels have told her occur between two enemies that fall off the edge of hate into unadulterated lust.) As she takes a moment to lean against the shower wall and let hot water sear her skin clean, she sort of vaguely remembers—

being pressed up against the wall and making a sarcastic comment as she loses her balance for a hot second about how not sexy it would be to crack her head open on the tile before Rachel makes an experiment out of the friction between her fingertips, the water, and Quinn’s nipples and she shuts up then for lack of coherent thought

realizing that the sensation of kissing while wet is interesting, to say the least

how she can’t explain how she knows, but there’s a very distinct difference between being wet, and being wet, and she can feel it on her fingers just like she can feel it when it slips past Rachel’s and down her thighs but she’s too busy forgetting how to breathe properly with air catching in her throat as deft fingers slide slickly over her clit, back and forth and backandforthandohfuckohfuckohfuckRachelyesyes

and since when is Rachel strong enough to hold her up?

Well—Jesus! Quinn can’t help but wonder did we debauch the entire room?! What she tries not to think about the most is how they’re likely not the first --or the last-- to do so. This hotel is probably totally sanitary. (That’s what she’s going to keep telling herself. )

As she’s exiting the bathroom scrubbing her hair with a towel, Quinn catches sight of Rachel once she’s put some clothes on, and holy Christ in a picnic basket, does this girl not own any clothes that cover her fucking legs? Because those shorts are probably illegal they’re so short.

And her legs. Her legs.

They're impossible. Really, absolutely fucking impossible, and they make Quinn feel like a pervy creeper because she’s actually licking her lips at the sight of them. She’s not really sure how she’s going to continue to remember things and look at Rachel and not attack her all over again, sober or not, and it’s at that moment she realizes she stopped thinking of this as a sinful mistake she’d need to confess to her priest somewhere around the time she remembered how good everything felt.

Rachel turns around to catch her staring, but she merely grins and skips over to answer the knock on the door that had saved Quinn from conversation with a mouth and throat that had gone completely dry. As she sits down at the table in front of the window in their room for the brunch being set in front of her, Quinn glances out at the skyline and shakes her head.

Fucking Vegas.

Glee, Shake The Glitter (1/?)

2011-06-05T06:20:00Z

Title: Shake The Glitter
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: R/NC-17, eventually.
Word Count: ~2250
Spoilers: The first 13 episodes of season 1, because I came up with this and wrote most of it during the hiatus waiting for the back 9.
Disclaimer: I don't own it or any of the characters used within, I'm just borrowing them with the promise to put them back where they belong when I'm done with them, scout's honor.
Notes: I wrote the majority of this like last March or something, but never posted it for reasons of I hadn't written all of it in one go, like I usually do, and I apparently like lurking in this fandom, and other things.

For the following kink_meme prompt: Rachel/Quinn "Waking Up In Vegas" style fic (after baby!Drizzle is idk gone, out of the picture.) Accidently!married after a night that neither of them remember. Please have a waking up naked and together, freakout scene. Bonus points for sexy flashbacks to that night as they gradually remember. Would prefer a happy together ending,(after sufficent angsting over everything, of course) just not married.

So this is what my brain said, and then I started writing: Nationals, senior year, bb Drizzle is, uh, adopted? Yeah. Let’s go with that. WIN. Everyone goes and gets plastered. Last thing Rachel remembers is the third bar of the night. Quinn can’t remember past the fourth cosmo at the first bar.

---

Quinn wakes up first. First she’s warm. And happy. And sated, but for some reason that word doesn’t quite compute just yet.

Then she feels a breath blow across her spine and she realizes she’s naked and there’s someone in bed with her and the last time she woke up like this it had resulted in one of the worst years of her life so her very next instinct is-- screaming. Stumbling, scrambling out of bed and whipping around to face whoever it was she has slept with—oh, God, oh, God, now she’s screaming more and the sleeping figure she’d just had next to her stirs, groaning, a mess of dark, long, wavy locks and Quinn can’t stop screaming because she was just, oh, you know, tangled up with Rachel Berry using her back as a pillow? (She’s taken to sleeping on her stomach after the six months she couldn’t.)

When brown eyes open fully to the situation there’s a brief struggle over who gets the top sheet to cover themselves with. Rachel wins out of sheer stubbornness and Quinn yanks the comforter and burritos herself up in the zebra pattern. When she looks back up at Rachel the diva has remarkably good hair for spending the night wasted and the morning hungover and why is she looking at Quinn like that?

Hazel eyes narrow. Rachel’s mouth moves, but no sound comes out.

“Talk, Rachel. I know you can. This is one of four times I’ve ever known you to be speechless in our entire lives.”

“You, um. Neck. Sh-shoulders.” She waves a shaky finger and then points limply to the mirror. Quinn glances to her left.

Then does a triple take.

Holy. Shit. There are bite marks all over her. She drops her makeshift toga a bit to see that they spread – she opens it up and peeks down at her breasts and gasps, clutching the material to her and squeezing her eyes shut. No. No, no, no. They are everywhere and suddenly she remembers the feel of Rachel’s silky hair as it slides over her skin, trailing after those perfect teeth and the mouth that scorches her skin. “Fuck, Rachel,” she hisses, body arching up against yet another firm, possessive bite on her breast, her rib, her hip as the brunette works her way down toward Quinn’s simmering heat—she gasps again and it seemed to shake Rachel out of her haze.

“Quinn? Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I wake up with no memory, in-in-in bed with, with… you,” she sputters, flinging an accusatory finger at the girl in the tangled sheets, “and one killer fucking hangover,” she adds with a snarl, “and ask me if I’m—all… righ…” It’s Rachel’s turn to wonder what Quinn’s hazel eyes are getting wide about.

“What is it? I know I forgot to take off my make up,” she says quickly, lifting a hand to her face self-consciously in a very un-Rachel Berry-like manner.

“No, you actually look pretty with it slept in,” Quinn says dazedly. “It’s… you have a… handcuffs—“ and suddenly Rachel feels the weight on her wrist. She looks down at the hand clasping the sheet to her chest and oh, sweet son of Abraham, there’s a pair of steely, shiny handcuffs dangling from her arm, one open and one still closed about her wrist. Her mouth drops open as her brows furrow in shock, and when she lifts her eyes to meet Quinn’s a rush of memory runs over her – snick, snick. The cuffs are brand new and sound it and Quinn’s eyes are dancing.

“Gotcha,” she whispers, straddling Rachel’s hips and leaning down to gaze into those trusting brown eyes. Rachel swallows hard, and Quinn’s eyes grow serious.

“Give me a safeword, Berry.”

“Broadway.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “God, you’re predictable.” But her smile is fond and then she’s rolling her hips and all Rachel can feel is damp undies against her thighs and holy crap, Quinn is a master bra remover, who knew?

“What the fuck did we do last night, Rachel?” The blonde’s voice startles Rachel out of her memory, and she blinks at the edge of anger in it that has been missing from the ex-Cheerio’s voice for years. If Rachel didn't know better, she would have missed the tremor of panic that the lace of venom is trying to hide.

“I think that’s obvious,” she sniffs.

“I meant besides this unsightly sin,” Quinn sneers. If Rachel is going to be snippy about it then she can be snippy right back. Quinn is about ninety percent positive her hair looks like a rat’s nest and it feels like Mr. Schue is break dancing against her skull right about now, so civility is a little out of reach.

“I have no idea,” the brunette retorts hotly. “I can’t remember anything after the third bar.”

Quinn groans, sinking against a chest of drawers with a hand over her face. “Jesus, it’s just a blur last night. I can’t remember anything past my fourth cosmo at the first bar.”

Rachel, retaining as much dignity as she can, scrambles off the bed without showing any more skin than is possible. (Although it’s not like she hasn’t seen it all, Berry, a small voice sounds in her head and she winces when it rings true.) Then she winces when she tries walking, and reaches for the post of the bed after just a couple steps.

“Quinn… I…”

“What?” The blonde looks concerned, takes a hesitant step toward the brunette leaning against the bedpost.

“I think you… I think we… um.”

Her eyes flutter to the floor because she can’t manage to say, “fucked until I can’t walk straight,” quite yet and Quinn breathes, “Oh. Oh.” And she is at Rachel’s side in a moment, left arm wrapping around her waist to help her stand, hand on her hip. Rachel blinks up at her with a small smile and then lashes hide her brown eyes again. They’ve taken a few steps when Rachel stops completely.

“Why,” she asks slowly, in a deceptively calm voice, “are you wearing my class ring, Quinn?”

“I’m not, moron, I’m wearing mi—“ and hazel eyes find the red stone with stainless steel and a cross on the side on Rachel Berry’s tanned finger. And Rachel finds the winking red oval set in white gold metal with a big, bright star beneath her graduating year on Quinn Fabray’s finger. Her left ring finger, to be exact. Just like Rachel’s.

“Shit,” they say in unison, and Rachel dashes for the bathroom while Quinn runs for the walk-in closet.

-

Doors slam at the same time and Quinn’s knees are shaking so badly she slides down against the door and sits in the dark closet, trying to catch her breath that she's so suddenly lost. As her eyes adjust to the tiny sliver of light coming from under the door, she lowers her hand to the floor, heart pounding wildly again at the sight of Rachel’s signature gold star winking up at her from her left ring finger. She groans internally to herself, convinced that things can’t possibly get more complicated or worse when she kicks her legs out and her foot brushes against something rubbery and hard.

Quinn freezes for a moment. When her brain can’t figure it out what it is without further evidence and her curiosity overwhelms the small part of her brain screaming for her to leave it alone, she crawls over slowly and pats her hand over the ground until it meets an object that makes her swear.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

It takes her another few moments to build up the courage to actually pick it up, fingers sliding over a sizable silicone length and the connected loops of synthetic material that can only be part of a harness.

She can't even bring herself to say it out loud. She can barely bring herself to think it. I can’t believe we…with a… it’s… it’s a— a strap on. …fuck. Quinn closes her eyes and suddenly another memory assaults her.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”

“Do you need help? You’ve been in there a while.”

“No!” she shoots back too quickly. “No, no, I’m—shit—I’m fine. Just gimme a minute.” Quinn glances at herself in the full-length mirror, turning to make sure she’s got all the straps in the right places, and tries to ignore how ridiculous she looks with this purple dildo attached to her hips. Checking that everything fits snugly, she lets the liquid courage running through her veins take over and swaggers out of the closet, taking long determined strides toward the girl who has been giggling on the other side of the door.

Brown eyes go wide at the sight of Quinn’s mostly naked body and her laughter dies in her throat at the predatory look in her eyes. Oh, fuck.

“Something funny?” the blonde asks, standing over Rachel where she sits at the edge of the bed. A smirk curls her lips as the diva simply shakes her head no, eyes fluttering down to the toy and back up again, visibly swallowing hard. Quinn puts her hands on her hips, her smirk growing.

“You’re the one that wanted me to wear this, Rach. I’m not really familiar with this type of thing but I’m pretty sure it needs to be prepped before a good fucking and I’m also pretty sure that’s your job.”

Something in Rachel’s chest seizes at the casual way Quinn dominates the situation in about five seconds flat (and uses the phrase ‘a good fucking’ like she says it every day of her life and means it) and she licks her lips nervously, dropping her eyes from that confident hazel gaze and reaching for one pale hip.

“Don’t be shy,” Quinn coos, and opens her mouth to tease Rachel a little more when the brunette traces the tip of her tongue from the base of the fake cock to the tip and suddenly Quinn is the one at a loss for words because watching Rachel close her mouth around the head of it and moan before the length disappears past her lips is maybe the hottest thing Quinn has ever seen.

Rachel has the passing thought as she lets her eyes flutter closed that Ms. Pillsbury was right, not having a gag reflex is a gift because Quinn makes a series of whimpering noises that are like music to her ears. Only she doesn't get to showcase her talent for long because then Quinn’s hand is in her hair, pulling her away. While she can't help the groan of pleasure at the way the blonde just fists a handful of her dark locks, it’s when Quinn half-tosses her onto the bed, crawls up the length of her body and whispers in her ear that she shivers all over with an undeniable wetness pooling between her legs.

“I’m gonna make you sing,” Quinn promises in a husky, throaty whisper. The way Rachel's body arches up into Quinn's, one leg wrapping around her hip and her short nails digging into her back tells the blonde that is exactly what the brunette wanted.

Quinn’s eyes shoot open before that recollection goes any further and she can't deny the warm heat coiling low in her belly. Swallowing hard, she searches the rest of the floor of the closet, finding only a stray heel and her jeans. The denim smells like vodka and smoke and Rachel and another memory swims forward.

Quinn frowns, patting the ass of her jeans repeatedly, stumbling against Rachel’s embrace, tanned arms looped around her neck.

“Damn it, I lost my fake ID.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Fabray.”

“God, so demanding.”

“You like it. Now kiss me.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Rachel’s whole face takes on a perfect pout, those big brown eyes threatening to crumble Quinn’s resolve from now until forever.

“Because I want to do terrible things to you,” she replies.

Rachel blinks. “That’s not a good reason to want—to want to not—” she frowns at her inability to get the words out right, because Rachel Berry does not stumble over her words, even when heavily intoxicated. “To not want to kiss me,” she finally enunciates clearly, a small smile of pride at getting the words out correctly blossoming. Then her brow crinkles again in thought. “In fact, I think that’s like the opposite of a reason to not kiss me.”

“I can’t kiss you, because if I do, I’m not gonna wanna stop. And I think I lost the hotel key along with my ID.”

That brings the diva up short. For about five seconds.

“This is why I insisted on the third key,” Rachel says matter-of-factly, speaking of the forty minute argument between her, Mr. Schue (who had to have all their room keys for security reasons) and the poor, unlucky desk attendant that had checked them in. She pulls the card with the magnetic strip out of her bra and Quinn lights up.

“Now will you kiss me?”

Quinn doesn’t answer with words.

Quinn is beginning to realize that she and Rachel had a lot of pent up feelings. Or must have had, for every single recollection of last night seems to have been about, during, or directly related to them having a ridiculous amount of sex. She files this realization away for later because trying to think about what it all means with this level of a hangover isn’t going to work. Instead she scoots up against the closet door and leans against it with a sigh, letting her eyes fall closed, because the only thought she can really manage right now is:

Fucking Vegas.

Nurse Jackie, The More Things Change

2010-02-15T07:34:44Z

Title: The More Things Change
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Nurse Jackie
Pairing: Jackie/O'Hara (if you squint. Really hard.) Mostly just gen.
Rating: PG-13/R, but only for language, because, well--I like swearing, they’re adults, and it comes on Showtime, for Christ’s sake.
Word Count: 676
Spoilers: Up to and including the finale of season 1. Seriously.
Disclaimer: I don't own it or any of the characters used within, I'm just borrowing them with the promise to put them back where they belong when I'm done with them, scout's honor.
Notes: This literally attacked me at one o' clock in the morning, but I'm pretty sure akte has been waiting for me to write NJ fanfic since she told me I should watch this show. Currently a one-shot, but I have the beginnings of a second part floating around in my head (but I'd hate to get y'all's hopes up and then not come up with anything).

When Jackie finally told Eleanor about the drugs, she was met with red puffy eyes, hatefully thin lips, crossed arms and an aura of betrayed rage that would have frightened her if not for the Percocet running through her system.

But Eleanor had to admit… it explained a bloody hell of a lot.

That didn’t mean she was ready to forgive her yet at all.

Of course, everything that was so carefully constructed and balanced in Jackie’s world was falling apart. Eddie went back to the bar a few more times while Jackie nearly OD’d on Vicodin, and finally confronted her husband about the whole thing.

Kevin was surprisingly calm about it. Which, for Jackie, was unbearable. Because anger she could handle. It was heartbreak she wasn’t good with. (At least not her own.) When he quietly told her he was moving his things to the tiny room above the bar, she refused to cry. The girls did plenty of it, and if Grace had one more panic attack-meltdown, Jackie thought she might die from worry.

So, when exactly one month later, Eleanor began requesting that Jackie be her nurse again, that little olive branch of familiarity was the tiny ray of hope that things might not have disintegrated completely in Jackie Peyton’s life. Not quite.

Zoey didn’t get fired, either. Somehow. Miraculously. No one knows how, especially with the mood Akalitus had been in recently. Actually, how Jackie herself wasn’t fired also was a bit of a mystery, but Jackie wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If she could consider having to work here after all that… all this was any kind of gift. But, really, she did. Because she was still working. Jackie could do that. She could come in and deal with the regulars, and the addicts, and the crazies, and the tears, and the outraged, (and Coop, in all his tit-grabbing, sloppy-kissing glory) and she could do her job.

Two months to the day found Jackie buying a Snickers bar and a pack of cigarettes (because hell fucking yeah she was smoking again) at the convenience center with O’Hara strolling down the hallway, tugging on a pair of leather gloves, a peacoat half shrugged on. Jackie watched her from the corner of her eye (because staring was rude), collecting the last of her change from the counter when she realized the doctor had stopped to arrange herself, purse and scarf tossed to the bench to her left. The nurse moved slowly, dropping her eyes back to her wallet when Eleanor’s eyes flicked over. The brunette fixed her collar and pulled the scarf on, draping it for appropriate levels of warmth and fashion, then picked up her purse and faced Jackie with a fist on her hip.

“Well, are you coming to lunch or not?”

Jackie’s face was usually almost comically readable, especially to Eleanor. Those blue eyes were wide with shock and her lips were pursed in that way that they got when Jacks didn’t know what to say. (Eleanor frowned at herself internally for letting the pet-name slip even in her thoughts. Because she was still mad. And upset. She just needed an escort to lunch. That was all.) If O’Hara hadn’t been so concentrated on not trembling to hear her answer, she probably would have laughed. Also, she was ravenous, so if Jackie was simply going to stand there—

“No sushi.”

Eleanor’s mouth dropped open to protest and Jackie only shook her head. Her mouth clamped shut into a pout, her nose lifted a little higher into the air. “Fine. Just for that, I’m getting crème brulée.”

As the two women fell in step, neither commented on the tiny quirks of smiles that had been missing from their respective faces for the last eight weeks. Nor did they mention the shiny brightness of Jackie’s eyes. They got out onto the street and Jackie would curse the cold air as she wiped at her cheeks, claiming the wind was making her eyes water.

Eleanor wouldn’t say otherwise.

Housekeeping!

2010-02-15T06:59:37Z

*stumbles in, chokes on dust, coughs*

Oi. If anyone is still out there, hi. I'm not dead.

None, some, or all of you may know of my regular journal, lowbatterie , and could have ascertained that yourselves. I apologize for the lack of posted fic in the past several months. My life got crazy, then chaotic, and then worse, somehow. But, one of my New Year's Resolutions was to start finishing fics I had started, at least one per week.

That has yet to happen, but it is encouraging me to write, because I feel like a bit of a failure until I achieve what I set out to do.

So, hopefully, this means that this journal will be a lot more active. If not only because I recently devoured Glee and Nurse Jackie over the Christmas break and I really, really like both of those shows now. A lot. :D

SVU, C/O, Surprise - Part 2

2009-09-08T08:53:35Z

Title: Surprise, Part 2
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: R? I don't know, I'm really bad at rating things-- I just write. Pretty sure this one is more hardcore than the last one.
Word Count: 1400
Notes: Written as a sequel to Surprise. I was trying to write on my Rockstar series for reversedsam , but this took precedence in my head and fingertips, apparently, and I have been told it will do just fine as a replacement, so. Another sleepless night writing. Enjoy.

Olivia Benson tried not to be a prideful woman. Sure, she had pride in her work, and she strove to be the best, but generally she didn’t like to boast and she didn’t like to brag. But making her girlfriend nearly come in her pants just by wearing a strap-on to work was something that made her ego swell.

Grinning, she hung up her desk phone and immediately started gathering her things. Elliot looked up, face disbelieving and confused all at once. “Where do you think you’re going? We’ve got a mountain of paperwork to finish here,” he said, indicating their joined desks — or what was visible of them underneath all the files, folders and boxes.

“No, you’ve got a mountain to finish, all my stuff is done,” she countered, swinging on her coat. “I’ve finished every DD-5, sent a copy to Cragen and re-filed every piece of evidence I had checked out.” She stepped to her locker and spun the combination lock. “I sent you copies of all my notes, my written pad is right there,” she indicated with a nod of her head, stuffing things inside her purse and reholstering her gun at her hip, “and you know the password to my computer. I told you I was taking the weekend off on Monday, so don’t you get all uppity just because I’m not going to waste my Friday, Saturday and Sunday with you catching up pushing papers.”

She closed her locker, did one last sweep of her desk and pushed her chair in, trying not to laugh at Elliot’s dismayed face amidst the stacks of cases around him. “If you need anything, don’t call. Unless you have to.” She gave him a pointed look and he nodded slowly, shooing her away.

“Get outta here, before I drag you down into my misery.”

She grinned and slapped him on the shoulder as she passed, reaching for her cell on the way out.

-

Casey was lying on her couch trying to recover from sudden onset arousal when her phone rang again. Checking the caller ID before she picked up, she braced herself against her desk as she put the phone to her ear. “You nearly had me passed out in my office from sheer arousal, you know.”

Olivia’s lusty chuckle put a smile on Casey’s face and sent a tingle zinging over her skin. “All from just telling you that? I bet it wouldn’t take you much to come, would it? You’re gagging for it right now, aren’t you?”

Casey swallowed hard, glancing toward her open office door. “Hold on.” She nearly ran over to the other side of her office to hurriedly close the blinds, and lock the door before returning to the phone, sitting down in her desk chair. “Yes,” she breathed.

Liv grinned, continuing her walk down New York City streets. “Locking your door so no one will catch you moaning, counselor?”

Casey groaned a bit, letting her head fall back against the tall leather chair. “You know me too well.”

“Are you wet again?”

The redhead let her eyes slip closed and she nodded for a moment before she realized Liv couldn’t see her. “M’workin’ on it,” she murmured.

“So if I slipped my hand up along your thigh over your designer slacks, parting your legs with one knee as I leaned above you and turned my hand so just the pad of my middle finger touched you through your clothes, could I feel your desire?”

Casey gasped, rocking her hips forward into a touch that wasn’t there. “Oh, Liv… you could now.”

“I want to straddle your lap as you sit in that big, fancy chair behind your desk. Settle my weight on your thighs with my knees squeezed around your hips as I slip my hands into your hair and kiss you for all I’m worth. Would you like that, Casey?”

“Nnnhh, yes, Liv, I’d run my hands up your arms and back and slip your leather jacket off your shoulders. I love when you wear it but I like taking it off better. I’d let it fall and run my palms all over you, scratch your thighs a little bit through the denim and squeeze your ass tight, pulling you against me as I bite your bottom lip, nipping at you toward the end of our kiss. Can you feel my hands on you, Olivia?”

“Oh, yes, baby, you’re making me purr. I’d grind down into your lap, rolling my hips against yours and slip my hands down over your neck until each hand cupped one breast. Are your nipples hard for me, Casey? When I brush my thumbs over them, do they ache? Do you whimper when I roll one between my fingertips?” Olivia stumbled when Casey did let out a pathetic little mewling noise over the phone, her breath increasing into shallow pants.

“I can see you now, Casey, biting your bottom lip trying not to make any noise while you imagine my lips on yours. I’d pepper your face with kisses and move to your sweet, long, graceful neck.”

“I’m dying over here, Liv,” Casey whined.

“I’d brush my teeth over your skin and mark you with a sharp bite right beneath your ear, then soothe it. You love it when I lick you just under your left ear, I can almost feel you shuddering beneath me right now. What do you want me to do next, Casey?”

“I—I—oh, God, Liv, I can’t say it—“

“Come on, baby, you can say it for me,” Liv purred, dropping her voice into a low octave. “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” she whispered. “Do it to yourself and imagine I’m doing it for you. Where do you want my fingers, sweet thing?”

“Ohhh, oh, oh, Olivia, I want them in my pants,” she struggled to say, brows furrowing as she fought the moans in the back of her throat.

“Rub yourself through your panties, one finger on your clit only,” Liv demanded, finally a block from her destination. “Close your eyes and imagine it’s the very tip of my big strap on, teasing you right before I fuck you.”

Casey made a strangled noise, her body jerking forward as her thighs squeezed together around her hand and her lungs suddenly desperate for air. “L-Liv,” she stammered, gasping, “ohhhh… I’m soaked through my panties, I want you so badly.”

Olivia licked her lips, feeling heated desire coil low in her belly and ignite. “I’ve got one hand on the side of your neck, my thumb rubbing over your skin right beneath your chin and the other sliding down your belly and into your underwear to get you ready for me. Oh, pretty baby, you’re slick as a river for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, throwing her head back once more, sliding one finger down her slit like Olivia would.

“You want me to run my hand through that gorgeous red hair of yours and grab a handful and pull, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moaned, swallowing hard and trying to catch her breath.

“You want to spread your legs like a perfect little slut so I can pound you with my thick cock?”

“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” Casey wheezed, the knuckles on her hand gripping the phone turning almost white as her other hand stroked at her clit furiously.

“Are you about to come in your pants, Casey?” Olivia asked in a sinful voice, her shoes clicking on hallway tile.

“Yes,” she breathed, unsure of how much longer she was going to last.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” she hissed between her teeth. “Beyond ready.”

A sharp knock rapped out on ADA Novak’s door, and Casey’s eyes shot open, fear shooting through her. Who could possibly be calling on her this late? Branch? Donnelly? Shit. Shitshitshitshit—she pulled her hand out of her pants and tried to wipe away the wetness staining her fingers.

“Case?”

“Someone’s at the door,” she said hurriedly, fumbling for the buttons on her slacks. “I gotta go, sweetie, it could be one of my bosses or--or— a judge for some reason, I don’t know—“ the knock sounded again, a little softer this time.

“Open up.”

And the sultry tone in her ear sounded a lot closer than Casey expected it would.

SVU, C/O, Surprise

2009-09-06T07:37:16Z

Title: Surprise
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: R? I don't know. I can't really explain or it'll give away the point, but probably SFW. Probably.
Word Count: 400
Notes: Written in the middle of the night. Literally; I had to roll over and scribble it down on the back of a receipt or I would've forgotten it. Sorta kinda for reversedsam in the hopes that she will forgive my constant empty promises of fic that I intend on trying to fulfill this weekend.

Casey wearily reached for her desk phone, praying that it wasn’t her assistant quitting, the One Six informing her of yet another case or the Chinese food delivery guy telling her he was lost. “ADA Casey Novak,” she sighed, cradling the phone between her cheek and shoulder while moving to finish filing the last folders in her arms.

“I’m wearing it.”

“You’re wearing—wha?” It took her a moment to register the silky, husky tone as that of her lover, but the sentence brought her up short.

No.

She set down the files and checked the caller ID; sure enough, it was the SVU squad room, specifically Detective Olivia Benson’s desk.

There was no way.

“Liv, you aren’t wearing—“

“I had to find my loosest jeans,” she purred.

“You own loose jeans?” Casey couldn’t help but ask. Olivia could almost see the dubious eyebrow arching as she spoke.

“Beside the point. Point in fact,” she said, emphasizing ‘point’ with a very deliberate stressing, “is I am.”

“You’re…” Casey sounded a little faint. “The… the b—“

“Yes, the big one.” Olivia heard a light thud on the other end of the line.

Casey had fallen into leaning against her desk. The knowledge that Olivia was packing not only her sidearm but a fucking strap on in her pants literally made her weak at the knees.

Liv’s brows furrowed as an incoherent keening drifted over the line. “Case? You okay?”

The redhead slammed her hand down on her work-laden desk, biting her bottom lip to stifle further moans threatening to spill forth.

“Ngh… baby, you can fuck me three ways to Sunday.”

Desire punched Liv in the gut and burst into flame.

“Oh?” she managed to croak.

Casey groaned in the affirmative, feeling drenched between the legs in a matter of seconds. “I am so unbelievably hot for you right now, I should be embarrassed.”

“Good,” is what she said, because she was still in the pen. (While the guys knew, she didn’t need or want to provide unnecessary fodder for either their fap or ridicule collections.) What she wanted to –and Casey could and did imagine– she wanted to add was, “because I can’t wait to get a hold of you and make you scream instead of moan.”

“Come to mama,” Casey growled as seductively, wantonly, demandingly, imploringly, desperately as she possibly could.

"You come first."

She nearly did.

Bones, Angela/Temperance, Anticipation Only Heightens Pleasure--Or, Y'Know, Not

2009-07-05T07:32:19Z

Title: Anticipation Only Heightens Pleasure--Or, Y'Know, Not
Author: lowbatterie , archived here @ substitute_ego
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Angela/Temperance
Rating: R (probably more like light R)
Word Count: 918
Notes: Written for the fireworks09: the totally (not) annual femslash_today porn battle, links to there where it's posted in two (comment) parts. The first Bones fic I've posted, the second ever I've written (and the first one was strictly a drabble I don't think I've ever posted). Enjoy.

( Angela rounded the corner, a smile on her face and her hands smoothing back the hair she had tied into a high pony tail, her stride as bouncy and peppy as usual. )

SVU, C/O, The Only Game They Play

2009-06-16T06:56:21Z

Title: The Only Game They Play
Author: lowbatterie
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 619
Notes: Pared down version fit for femslash100 (challenge #194, game) has been posted there, this version is crossposted to casey_olivia and copper_n_steel.

When Olivia came home from work, dropped her bag at the door, shed her jacket by the couch and her shoes in the hall, she almost always proceeded to flop into bed. On the days she screamed into the pillow, Casey went to work.

She started with straddling her back; it always piqued the detective’s attention. At the very least, it earned her a glance over her shoulder. Casey would smile then, lean down and mold herself to Olivia’s back and with one hand grip those silky russet locks and pull them up out of the way so she could kiss the back of her neck.

Sometimes that was enough to get Liv to roll over, and things took their natural course from there. Other times she would shift a little, but it wasn’t enough. Casey liked to slip her hands under Liv’s shirt, stroke up her sides with her fingertips, sliding her shirt upward with the motion. Every time Olivia arched her back to aid the process and keep the material from gathering at her stomach, Casey chuckled. Then the redhead would bend down again and lay kisses slowly down Olivia’s spine. She would scratch her fingernails up and down those tawny sides, earning a shiver from Liv’s ticklish nerves. She would continue to drop kisses on Liv’s vertebrae until she reached the small of her back just above the waistline of her pants. (Occasionally, when Casey couldn’t help herself, she would lick instead of kiss at that last spot, which usually incited fun, similar activities.)

If all of that wasn’t enough, Casey would hop up to go run a bath. Letting Liv know it was ready usually involved throwing her last item of clothing at Olivia’s half-naked back. Upon discovering it was the redhead’s bra, the brunette quickly followed suit in disrobing and joining her girlfriend in the bathroom.

Casey was always already in the scented, bubbly water, backed up against the back of the tub so Olivia could sit in front of her. When she did, Casey would administer a few more soft kisses to Olivia’s neck, then reach for hair care products.

Depending on Liv’s mood, Casey would wash her hair for her. Legs curled around her protectively, olive-skinned back pressed against porcelain front, slender fingers massaged and combed through golden brown hair. Depending on how many hours straight she’d worked prior to coming home, Liv may or may not fall asleep under the gentle scrubbing of her scalp. She always woke when Casey put her lips to her ear, though.

“Have I gotten Olivia back?” she always asked, at any stage of this game, starting with the slump of a fake-leather handbag hitting the entryway floor. Liv, when she finally felt like the city grime and human crime were put far away, would smile and answer, “Yes,” nodding.

Casey’s teeth would nibble on that earlobe and Olivia would run her palms over smooth alabaster legs she could hardly wait to have wrapped around her. “You’re too good to me, Casey,” she’d say as they stepped out of the bath and into towels, facing each other for the first time since Liv got home. Casey’s grin would overtake that pretty red mouth.

“I know. Prove you deserve me.”

And Liv would kiss her so soundly she’d have to wrap an arm around the younger woman’s slender waist because it never failed to make Casey weak at the knees. Casey would drape her arms around those strong shoulders and lean back from that hello kiss a little bit dazed.

With a cheeky grin, Liv would ask, “Do I?”

Tangling a hand in wet hair to guide her back into a kiss, Casey would reply, “You do.”

SVU, C/O, The Difference Between Yesterday And Today

2009-06-05T07:13:09Z

Title: The Difference Between Yesterday And Today
Author: lowbatterie , archived at substitute_ego
Prompt: (femslash100 ) Challenge #193 - yesterday
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: PG-13/R, for language/implied sex
Word Count: 100
Notes: Follow the fake-cut to original posting @ femslash100

( Yesterday, she was working a case with her squad. )

SVU, E/O, ficathon entry

2009-03-13T05:30:25Z

Title: One Of Those Days
Author: lowbatterie aka/archived at substitute_ego
Word Count: roughly 2,500
Rating: Er... R, for language and adult situations
Summary: Written for raeology101
Story Request: "undercover fic set during season 8 after Liv comes back"
AN: It's been a while since I've seen season eight, so if my tone is a little bit off, I apologize.

( Follow the fake cut! )

SVU, C/O, Shooting Range

2009-02-25T21:20:34Z

Title: Shooting Range
Author: lowbatterie, archived at substitute_ego
Prompt: Remainder challenge # 180, original challenge # 178 - trigger @ femslash100
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: G
Word count: 100
Summary: Casey learns to shoot. Sort of.

( Read more... )

SVU, C/O, The Rain Isn't To Blame

2009-01-09T09:04:09Z

Title: The Rain Isn't To Blame
Author: lowbatterie , archived @ substitute_ego
Prompt: Challenge #174; anticipation @ femslash100
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Casey/Olivia
Rating: PG
Word count: 250

( It took Casey a long time to ask Olivia out. )

Note: I write first, then edit for communities/whittle it down to 100, 200 words exactly, etc. What's below is the original before being pared down to meet the community's standards. Nothing wrong with it, and mostly the same, but a dash longer.

It took Casey a long time to build up the nerve to ask Olivia out. I mean, we’re talking at least a year. But hey, she finally choked it out as the detective was exiting her office and instead of turning around with a disgusted look on her face she found surprise evident in her risen brows and that stupid lopsided smile that made her knees all wobbly and jello-y aimed right at her, with a “Yes, I’d love to,” rolling off those lips.

And if there was one thing Olivia Benson was good at, it was making Casey wait.

So, now they were coming back from a fantastic dinner at a small restaurant where Casey knew the manager and she was walking extra carefully down the hallway because she may or may not have imbibed a little too much wine. Olivia insisted on making sure she got in all right, all the way to the door. Casey turned around with the key in the lock and Olivia was right there and leaning in with her hand on the doorframe—

Oh, God, oh GodohGodohGod- is she gonna kiss me? What’s she doing? She’s just staring at me like she’s waiting on something- c’mon, Liv, kiss me, kiss me already!

Liv laughed, a low, purring sound that made Casey shiver and swallow hard before squeaking out a breathy, “Well?”

A grin pulled at Olivia’s lips. “I just like to see you shiver with antici…” Casey leaned in, hopeful eyes and heart in her throat, “pation.”

Casey fell back with a thud against her door, Olivia Benson molded right up against her with no intention of letting those sweet lips go any time soon.

SVU, E/O, Things That Go Bump Against The Squad Car

2009-01-06T08:40:13Z

Title: Things That Go Bump Against The Squad Car
Author: lowbatterie, aka substitute_ego
Rating: R (for language and situation)
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing: Elliot/Olivia
Category: Er... romance? Smut sounds so dirty (but also more fun :D).
Word Count: 700 on the dot
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None. Oh, wait; profanity. A bit.
Summary: They were always going to do this, one day, because that was the only way to resolve all this unresolved tension cutting so thick-- against a wall. (Though admittedly, against a car works just as well.)
Author's Note: For the Holiday Hoedown on eoshippers. Fake cut to the entry there.

( They made a thudding sound against the car. )

Writing Meme, Request (II)

2008-12-28T11:38:57Z

Title: The Voice Of Experience
Author: lowbatterie, aka substitute_ego
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Characters: Casey Novak, Liz Donnelly
Spoilers: None, other than Liz is a judge. *shrug*
Rating: PG-13, for language
Word Count: 330
Summary: Prompt was my take on Liz/Casey, for akte.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Casey. Good thing I already know them all.”

Casey was standing in Liz’s office, after a long day, with the blinds drawn and the door locked. When she was standing here, that quote was what she always remembered.

Liz told her that at the end of her first week with that damn smirk on her face, like it almost always was, and she was so self-satisfied but damn it, it was well earned by now.

She blinked and found herself back in the present, the honorable Judge Donnelly rising from her chair and rounding her desk. Green eyes widened just a fraction and she felt her breathing speed up as Liz sauntered toward her in one of her form fitting power suits and heels that bordered between “don’t fuck with me” and just plain “fuck me.”

On an ordinary day, Casey couldn’t decide which to do. (Sometimes she flipped a coin.)

Liz’s smile was warm, and slow, and she shook her head as she practically watched the gears turn in the young redhead’s mind.

“Sometimes, Casey, I think you think too much.” She tucked a lock of red-gold hair behind one ear and let her fingertips slide along the underside of the ADA’s jaw, dark brown eyes following the path her fingers traced on that sweet, flawless, porcelain skin.

“Well,” Casey said, swallowing hard and the bobble in her throat making Liz grin more as she felt the motion under the pad of her thumb, “I’ve obviously got a lot more thinking to do if I’m ever going to catch up to you.”

That earned her a throaty laugh. “Darling, if you could catch up to me by thinking, I’m sure you’d be there by now.”

The older woman slid her hand up to that pouty mouth and brushed a fingertip with feather softness over a pink bottom lip, which fell open to accept those fingers without hesitation.

Liz grinned.

Casey purred.

FF100, Casey Novak, Two prompts

2008-12-28T09:57:40Z

Title: False Start
Fandom: SVU
Characters: Casey Novak
Prompt: 001 - Beginnings
Word Count: 2000
Rating: PG-13, for language
Summary: Casey had a rough start in SVU, even by their standards.
Author's Notes: Spoilers for season five's Serendipity.

( Casey Novak knew a few things about the justice system. )

Title: Swing
Fandom: SVU
Characters: Casey Novak
Prompt: 026 - Teammates
Word Count: 250
Rating: G
Summary: Casey's up to bat and of course, it's the bottom of the ninth.

( Casey tried to control her breathing, tipping her helmet down a little more, taking a few practice swings. )

Writing Meme, Request (i)

2008-12-21T07:57:36Z

Title: Nerdy Bullet Trajectory Knowledge
Author: substitute_ego , aka lowbatterie
Fandom: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, to be referred to as SVU from here on out.
Characters: Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson
Spoilers: None.
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
Summary: Elliot + Science, for turntap2.

“Stand back, I’m going to try Science.”

Olivia arched a brow, straightening from her searching through the stacks of clutter around them. “That sounded like science started with a capital ‘S,’ El.”

“It is,” he muttered, straightening from his similar situation and dropping a stack of yellowed newspapers. He narrowed his eyes and started forward, making his way through the maze-like room, lined with magazines, junk mail and too many copies of The New York Times to possibly be healthy.

“What’s up?” Liv asked, still thumbing through a handful of mail but lifting her eyes to her partner’s movements.

“I think,” he began, rubbing his rubber gloved hand over a nick in the door frame, “there was a gunfight in here.”

Benson’s browns furrowed into a dubious skepticism. “In here? When?”

Elliot continued to inspect the gouged wood and turned, measuring off distances in his head. “While ago.”

“You think it has anything to do with our vic’s death?”

“Well, it’s not like anyone’d report gunshots in this slum,” he said, hurdling stacks of paper at his knees in an attempt to take a straight path toward a sharp hallway turn. Olivia dropped her mail and followed, tracing her eyes from the so-called bullet hole to where Elliot was now looking around. He started left down the hallway and stepped into the bedroom. His partner followed him and then leaned in the doorway, bracing herself with one hand and still looking on curiously as he paced around the room.

“You think someone took a shot from all the way back here?” she guessed. “You got all this from a nick in a shoddy door?”

His blue eyes met hers once over his shoulder as he shot her a look, preparing to bend over briefly by the nightstand. “Yes,” he huffed, dropping into almost a push-up and chuckling victoriously. He straightened with a shell casing pinched between his fingers, and grinned at her shocked face.

“Our vic was here, maybe asleep, probably watching TV,” he extrapolated, gesturing around the room before bagging the bullet jacket. “The perp broke in, probably busted the door in since that lock’s so weak.”

“Perp isn’t interested in his stuff-- though I don’t know who would be,” Liv theorized, going along with her partner’s ‘story.’

“No, he’s coming straight for the vic. By now, vic knows someone’s here, he goes for the gun in the dresser, and--” Stabler aims his hand at Liv’s chest, fingers curled into a gun shape, “bang, but it’s dark, he misses.”

“No blood here, though. Scene of the crime was at the vic’s work.”

“Probably scared the perp off with the shot.”

“I still don’t understand how you knew this was here.”

“It’s all about trajectories, Liv.” He walked toward her and she backed up until they were at the turn in the hall. He lifted a hand to a dented metal statue that both of them had taken one look at and deemed, “Ugly,” in unison. “Missed bullet hits this piece of crap, angles down the hall and straight into the doorway,” he said, pointing along his sightline for Liv to follow. “Door was probably still open at this point, so it’s likely we’ve lost the actual bullet, but we should have forensics check the hall just in case. It grazed the wood just enough there where I started for me to notice it.”

“You are kind of smarter than I gave you credit for, Stabler.”

“Don’t shower me with glowing praise, it might go to my head.”

She punched him in the shoulder, smiling, as they resumed their work.

Fanfic100, Casey Novak, Big Damn Table

2008-12-20T11:32:39Z

Casey Novak, here I come!

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Three.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

2.27.07 11:51PM Update: 5 down, 95 to go. :D
3.3.07 11:55 PM Update: 013 - Yellow posted.
3.18.07 3:13 PM Update: 054 - Air posted.
4.30.07 11:59 PM Update: 096 - Writer's Choice, Three posted.
12.28.08 4:04AM Update: 001 - Beginnings, 026 - Teammates

[The same table is posted on my personal journal, for those of you who've seen it twice.]

Doctor Who, Four Times Martha Jones Almost Died...

2008-12-20T10:46:28Z

Title: Four Times Martha Jones Almost Died (And One Time The Doctor Was Glad Jack Had A Vortex Manipulator)
Author: substitute_ego , also known as lowbatterie
Pairing: Gen, Martha/lots, if you squint
Spoilers: Lots, crossovers with several DW spinoffs. (Specifics below the cut.)
Summary: Martha Jones does a lot of living; consequently, there's a lot of almost dying going on.
Disclaimer: Ha. Very funny. Stop teasing me.
Author’s Note: Series of drabbles -although strictly speaking, they’re vignettes, but I don’t like that word because I always have to think too hard about how to spell it and say it- involving one Martha Jones. And a variety of other characters we know and love. Exactly 2000 word total, which was fun to make.

Okay, more specifics on the spoilers. Uhhh… lots. -grins- Um. Season One of the Sarah Jane Adventures, Season Two of Torchwood, and Season Three through Four of Doctor Who (through The Poison Sky). The timeline is explained at the bottom, because I don’t want to really confuse you ‘til you’ve read it.

--

-One-

Martha skidded to a halt, her maroon boots sending a shower of scree clattering down the steep incline, her hand grasping at the Doctor’s blue sleeve as his arms grabbed at her as well. Her brown eyes went wide as saucers when she saw the fog that ate up the bottom of the gorge, echoes of the rocks she’d dislodged still bouncing back at them.

“When I said run, I didn’t mean off the edge of a cliff,” the Doctor muttered, pulling her backwards slightly impatiently, taking her hand in his as you would a small child to keep them from wandering off again.

“Sorry,” she breathed, unable to respond much more than that.

And despite his feigned irritation, the Doctor didn’t let her go.

--

-Two-

Martha really didn’t plan on taking another trip with the Doctor. She really didn’t. Even though he was smiling at her knowingly and promising, “Just one more trip,” with his eyes like he had in the beginning, they both knew she really meant it when she said no.

But then Donna asked.

“Come on, Martha,” she pled in a soft voice while the Doctor was busy crawling through wiring underneath them, his legs at odd angles and his pinstriped bum in the air. “Not that I don’t love ‘im to bits-- and not like that,” she preempted, rolling her eyes, “but it’s nice to have someone else around, too.” The redhead grinned that crooked half smile and Martha felt herself go weak. “It’s nice having you around.”

Well, bollocks.

Next thing she knew she was running around a posh old mansion with a stinger the size of a medieval sword stabbing at the walls around her. She made sure everyone in the entire house was made aware of the fact that she was running for her life from a giant wasp.

Of course it would be her luck to trip. She had managed hundreds of other adventures in her nice purple shoes, her trainers (just the once, she was sensible), her cute but-now-completely-worthless-for-having-traversed-the-hostile-surface-with-that-Hath-blue heels, and it would come to now, when her life depended on it that she would stumble and fall like the movie cliché she hated so much.

I can’t believe I’m going to die at the hands-- er, stinger-- of a bleeding bug, she thought to herself, steeling herself for the blow that should have landed right between her shoulder blades. Instead she heard an inhuman screeching and a shattering of glass that she flinched against involuntarily.

“Martha!” came the Doctor’s yell, his footsteps coming closer and sounding like he was sprinting in long strides down lengthy hallways.

“Alright,” Donna yelled back, lowering her magnifying glass and kneeling next to her. “Are you?” she asked, concern etched into her features as she helped Martha to her feet.

“Yeah,” the almost-doctor breathed, brushing off her flapper dress, “thanks to you.”

Donna dipped her head to one side, that half smile overtaking her features again. “Well,” she drawled, dragging out the one syllable like she did and making Martha smile. “Just a little trick I came up with when I was faced with death.”

“Oh,” Martha nodded, sarcasm in her very smile and posture as the Doctor came bounding up, breathless. “Of course,” she agreed.

“How’re we doing? Good? Everyone good? Martha? Donna? Agatha?” his eyes bounced from companion to companion, manic energy still zinging through him like it always did when they were smack in the middle of something terribly dangerous and frighteningly fun all at once. That crazy grin started to pull at his mouth and Martha groaned, not completely sure that was the only time her life would be in danger today, but following after the Time Lord anyway because life was more interesting that way.

--

-Three-

Sarah Jane.

The Doctor had talked about her, once. That rainy day in New New York, after she watched the Face of Boe close his eyes and a sudden darkness appeared in the Doctor’s. When she made him talk so she could understand; so he could. A name that even sounded brave. Sounded like the most extraordinary ordinary person. Sarah Jane Smith.

So Martha almost laughed when a woman came knocking on her door about a week after the Lazarus disaster, flashing an important looking card in her face.

“I’m sorry, Miss Jones, have I said something funny?”

“No, no, Sarah Jane, please. I’m sorry, do come in.”

The petite woman gave her a strange look at the casual use of her first name, but accepted the offer nonetheless.

Martha did laugh when Sarah Jane saw the TARDIS parked in the middle of her flat. Sarah Jane whirled on her, face fraught with emotion like she couldn’t decide between being furious or excited. “You-- he-- is… the Doctor…?”

“He’s sleeping,” Martha explained, gesturing at the couch and hurrying to save the tea she’d been making in her kitchen. “He had a long day, showing off the Diamond Coral Reefs of Ga’Tar Flo’Kor, and all.”

“I… I just came to ask you a few questions about Dr. Lazarus, your sister Tish wouldn’t say a word about the whole experience after he’d escaped the ambulance.” She looked a bit shell shocked, but accepted the mug Martha offered with a smile that must have been absolutely gorgeous not so long ago.

“Thank you. She let it slip that you were with her, however, and I was hoping I could find out exactly what happened that night. Ever since I traveled with him, well, I--” she paused, swallowing hard as she glanced at the police box, “well, I’ve been investigating ever since. But now I see the TARDIS,” she smiled again, looking at the blue box fondly, “it all makes sense in that way that doesn’t at all, when it comes to him.”

They shared a knowing smile and chatted a bit, exchanging numbers and promises to talk once in a while.

Two weeks later, as she was taking a brief respite from the Doctor after the Family, when Martha found herself running alongside Sarah Jane through her son’s school from the-- wait, what were they again?

“Slitheen?” she asked incredulously, diving under a table in the cafeteria alongside Sarah Jane as a round, greenish figure waddled by just outside the doors.

“Technically the Slitheen are a family from the planet Raxicoricofallapatorious, but it’s much easier to call them Slitheen, don’t you think?”

Right. Well, Martha wasn’t surprised.

She was, however, unpleasantly so when they confronted the little one with empty spray bottles.

“Bollocks,” they intoned together in a desperate whisper, looking at their vinegar-less weapons with pleading eyes as if that would magically refill them. The young Slitheen’s laughter brought them up short as he leveled a gun at Martha’s chest.

“You’re a bit thicker than the other one here, I suppose I could fit into you a bit easier with those hips.”

To her credit, Martha didn’t make a sharp retort, considering who had the firepower. His grubby little finger poised on the trigger and she steeled herself for the shot that never came. Instead she heard a high pitched whine that was altogether familiar and foreign at the same time. She opened her eyes to find Sarah Jane blowing imaginary smoke off the end of a strange looking cylinder.

“Sonic Lipstick,” she said with a grin. “Never leave home without it.”

--

-Four-

Jack was absolutely, positively sure he would never tell the Doctor about this little adventure, or it would literally be his head. (That particular method of death had not been acted upon him yet, and he wasn’t keen on experiencing it.)

It was one thing using Martha to get into the clinic and having an alien incubated inside her. (Most of that was the Doctor’s fault, though, because Jack certainly didn’t put any radiation inside Martha’s body. Other things he could perhaps be blamed for putting there.)

It was another thing getting most of Martha’s life sucked out of her from the glove he’d died three times to get. (Though in his defense, she was back to her gorgeous, young self now.)

But it was not even within this universe or the next three neighboring parallel universes over to let Martha Jones get killed, on Earth, in his care, by a Weevil.

Just wasn’t gonna happen. (Hence the never telling the Doctor, because what’s the point of telling an ‘almost’ story if things turn out alright, right?)

“Martha!” he shouted in that way that only he could shout her name, even in the depths of a terrifying moment like this.

“Jack!” and the fear in her voice ripped at his heart worse than that time-- never mind, there was no time for a flashback. Martha was hurt, limping and holding her side and still fighting, but he was a block away and the Weevil was closing fast.

Where the hell was the rest of the team? They were supposed to be here by--

Squealing tires edged around the corner and he shook his head, grinning at Gwen’s driving skills when she complained so much about Owen’s, while he continued to sprint to his most recent lover’s aid. He saw what Gwen intended to do and grimaced.

“Not with the--!”

WHAM-- the SUV took out the Weevil with one hit.

Martha laughed. Jack sighed with relief.

--

-Five, or, Jack Saves The Day-

The Doctor loved that Martha never backed down from a fight. Absolutely loved it. Not since they fought against the Daleks in Manhattan did she run away from an enemy. He couldn’t be prouder of her, sometimes, like when she baited Lazarus before he could think of how to get him up to the bell tower himself. But now, oh, please, Martha, let this be the one time you give up on something!

“Identify? Sure, I’ll identify. Martha Jones, medical student, species homo sapiens sapiens.”

‘Course not, though. He’d have been disappointed if she had.

“Bring it on, you bucket of bolts. I dare you.”

Okay, that last was a bit much.

“Target identified. The human will be upgraded.”

“I’d rather die than become one of you.”

“Hostile elements will be deleted.” Those mechanized tones still made his blood run cold. “Delete!” The two Cybermen raised their arms and for a second the Doctor’s hearts stopped.

“No!” he shouted, reaching out a hand to his companion, his friend. He couldn’t lose her-- not another one-- not to them, damn it, not again!

She didn’t even scream. Merely lifted her chin, defiant to the last. But just when the Doctor thought his hearts would break watching her get zapped with that energy blast, there was another roaring yell that matched his own, and suddenly Martha wasn’t there anymore and those bolts passed through air.

She was behind him, being hugged by strong arms in a blue greatcoat. When the Doctor whirled around she was looking up at her savior with a look of surprise that quickly slid into smiling wonder as that supernova, Casanova smile lit up familiar features.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said, grinning brightly. “Nice to meet you, Martha Jones. You’ve certainly got some balls to stand up to Cybermen.” He let her go and the Doctor gathered her in his arms, relief flooding his face before any anger could boil up against Jack. “Hey, Doctor. I was in the neighborhood so I figured I’d pop by and save your current companion while I was at it.”

The Doctor didn’t release his hold on Martha just yet, merely opened his eyes enough to narrow them at the man before him. His brown eyes flicked down to that leather wrist strap and back up to meet Jack’s striking blues accusingly.

“How many times am I going to have to break that thing?”

Jack shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno. How many times am I going to have to fix it?”

The Doctor gave him one last look before closing his eyes again, still hugging Martha’s small form against his own. For once, he was glad that Jack had that stupid Vortex Manipulator.

--

Author’s Note (2): The timeline is a little screwy because I didn’t want to be writing this post Last Of The Time Lords, which was the same arc in which she met Jack, so this is vaguely season three. But with season four overtones so we can have Donna spice things up a bit. So, for reference: -One- is mid season three. -Two- is post The Poison Sky. -Three- is mid season three with mid season one SJA seasonings. -Four- is mid season two of Torchwood, and -Five/Jack Saves the Day- is mid season three, pre Martha‘s meeting Jack. Get it? Good.

--

Feedback is love.

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:54:16Z

11. Teacher/Student
Part 2/2

Part One

All the air gushed out of Liv’s lungs as she felt cool air hit her bottom, and she turned her head quickly, brown hair curling to frame her flushed face, one hand propped against Casey’s knee. “What are you doing?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, legs tensing together in an effort to hide her reaction to the discipline.

“What you always wanted me to, Olivia. Or am I mistaken about your intentions? Usually naughty children don’t ask for repeat punishments,” she murmured, arching a brow and sitting back, daring Olivia to say otherwise.

The brunette bit her bottom lip and dropped her eyes, trying to control her breathing but unable to keep a small smile from curling her lips as they parted again, her chest heaving against Casey’s lap. “You’re not mistaken, ma’am.”

“I surmised as much.” And Casey landed several sharp smacks without warning, nearly purring as she watched the tanned backside respond with a quick red flush spreading over both cheeks, her handprint very faintly visible. The redhead *did* purr when she heard the whimpers escape Liv’s throat and a hand clench at her thigh desperately, a strained moan making Olivia throw her head back before letting it flop forward.

“Mmohhh… pl-please, M-mmmm-- Ms. No-hhh!” Olivia couldn’t get the words out of her mouth, and apparently her voice could reach that upper octave. Her eyes fluttered closed, mouth pressed lightly against Ms. Novak’s thigh as she tried to gather herself, the denim rough against her lips and chin.

Casey ignored Liv’s mumblings for now, due to their incoherency. She raised her hand to spank her again, finally starting to accept that they both derived an obscene pleasure out of it when she saw a glisten slither down the inside of one of those lean, tawny thighs. Grinning wolfishly, she leaned down to Olivia’s ear, tonguing the outer shell suggestively as her fingers slowly traversed the soft skin of her backside.

“You like this, don’t you, Olivia?”

“Yes,” she breathed, back arching as she felt fingernails scrape gently over her bruised ass.

“You want me, don’t you?”

“God, yes, please, Ms. Novak, let me--” and Liv started to rise but was stopped by a sharp smack to the middle of her back that stung even through her cotton shirt. Blinking, she glanced up at Casey’s face, a stern look residing in the set of her mouth, only the tiniest glimmer of a smile in her eyes.

“No. You wanted me, so you’ll get me how you get me. I’ve compromised everything I hold dear for you. One mischievous and attractive spoiled brat flirts and flaunts and finally gets her way. Are you happy, Olivia? I could be fired for this. I could be fired for the *implication* of this! Is that what you want?”

“No! I never wanted to hurt your reputation, Ms. Novak--”

“A bit too late for that, I think, now that half the school probably knows I blistered your butt in the middle of class.”

“Elliot told me no one knows, please, Ms. Novak, don’t be mad, I only wanted--”

“ ‘I only wanted’,” she echoed, making a face at the girl still lying across her lap, obviously unaware of the pulsing heat between the redhead’s thighs urging her to shut the hell up and take advantage of this situation while she still could. But her head was getting in the way of her heart--NO, just her libido, her heart had *nothing* to do with this (still in denial, apparently), and she chose to ignore the tears sparking in her student’s eyes. “Only wanted what? To get me kicked out of this school and probably every institution in the state?”

“Never!” the girl replied, her voice tightening with emotion as a tear slid down her cheek. Olivia felt her chest tighten as she finally realized the position she’d put Ms. Novak in. “I’m so sorry I did this to you, Ms. Novak! Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I’ll just leave, d-don’t be mad, please--” and she gasped sharply, eyes going wide as the tears stopped.

Casey had swiftly slid two fingers into Olivia’s inviting wetness, a rather malevolent grin spreading across her lips as she scissored the two digits, watching Liv’s face twist in pleasure as the girl squirmed in her lap.

“This is what you want, isn’t it, Olivia?”

"Ohhhh, GOD! Yes, yes, pleaaaase, Ms. Novak, yes!"

Casey grinned further as she watched those hips rock back urgently as her fingers slid away, one circling her opening teasingly, green hues drinking in the sight of a bucking Olivia Benson in her lap, begging for more.

“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you, Olivia?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she moaned, Casey biting her bottom lip to avoid groaning at the way Liv’s fingers clenched around her upper thigh and knee, a jolt of electricity shooting through her from the needy grasp. The redhead left just a single finger on Liv’s wet center, casually dragging a fingernail upward along the length of her slit. She laid her other hand on Liv’s back, watching the trembling in the teen grow as she toyed absently along the crack of her ass, slender fingers probing gently.

“Bad girls aren’t supposed to enjoy their punishments, Livvy. Are you enjoying this?”

Liv kicked her feet, toes scuffing against the linoleum floor, her eyes closed in ecstasy until she felt that strange touch, a gasp escaping her as her eyes shot open. “Y-y-yes, M-Ms. Novak,” she stammered, looking up shyly at Casey, who, without a word, slipped her fingers away from that delicious ass and back to the moisture making Liv's thighs slick.

Casey grinned, tangling her fingers in Olivia's hair and tilting that head back, her lips suckling just below the brunette's ear. "You like this, don't you? You want to be my little slut, you want me to do things to you while you wear your sinful little uniform, isn't that right, Miss Benson?"

“Yes, Ms. Novak, yes! I want you to spank me until my ass is bruised and red and sore, I want your hand or your ruler to blister my butt until I beg you to stop. I want you to teach me a lesson, show me my place, keep me in line because I’m too naughty to do it myself,” she groaned, shuddering as Casey thrust her tongue hungrily into Olivia’s ear, the redhead pulling back in shock as she heard the words tumbling from those pouty lips.

“What else, Olivia? Do you want my fingers inside you, like this?” she asked in a throaty voice, sliding a single digit past Liv’s entrance, coating her finger in the brunette’s honey, drawing a circle inside of her and curling her finger expertly against the velvety walls.

“Ohhhh, GOD! Yes, yes, I want your fingers inside of me, I want you to thrust in and out slowly, so slow I can’t handle it. I want more than just one finger, Ms. Novak,” she added breathlessly, pushing back firmly against Casey’s hand, making a delicious little gasp as the redhead gave short thrust in response. “I want two or three of your fingers making me scream your name over and over again--oh!”

“That’s right, Livvy, you wanted it, you got it. You’ve got three of my fingers inside of you,” Casey murmured, sitting up and smacking Olivia’s ass with her free hand, watching with a smile and a light moan as her fingers sank into Liv’s center without resistance. “But I don’t do slow, Livvy. I do what I want, so I’m going to pound my fingers into you, and you’re going to like it anyway. You’re going to make that soft little whimper when my tongue licks up the side of your neck, like this,” and she demonstrated. “And you’re going to moan when I bite your earlobe,” and her lips curled into a grin against Liv’s ear. “And you’re going to scream my name when I do this,” and Casey sharply pressed her thumb against Olivia’s clit, applying the firmest pressure she could while her fingers wiggled as deep as they could go, sinking against the teen’s molten center before those walls began to tighten around her drenched digits.

“Oh, CASEY!”

And there was one long groan from both women as Olivia came all over Casey’s fingers, the redhead leaning back in her chair with a contented grin, Liv trying to catch her breath as she slid to her knees, her arms crossed on Casey’s thighs and her head resting there until she could gather herself.

Casey arched a brow at her sticky hand, and couldn’t resist; she lifted her fingers to her mouth and licked once, groaning indecently at the taste and lapping at her slender digits until they were clean. Olivia watched with wide eyes, her mouth falling open at the way her imagination went off watching her teacher’s tongue slide up and around, using the tip and the flat of that pink muscle that looked like it could devastate things when in the right place.

Swallowing hard, Liv dropped her eyes as she heard her teacher almost purr, and found herself level with Casey’s abdomen. Biting her bottom lip, her arms unfolded, fingers gently sliding under the green knit sweater and stroking along the pale skin beneath went unnoticed. She shifted forward hesitantly, Casey letting out a small mewl when lips touched the skin just above the hem of her low-rise jeans. Liv’s fingers delicately undid the button and pushed down the zipper, Casey finally waking from her haze when teeth nipped at the elastic of her underwear.

“Whoa!” she said breathlessly, jumping and sitting up straighter in her chair, fingers going to the armrests and clutching tightly, her legs straining to kick and propel her to a safe distance but holding stock still since Liv was still tangled in them. The brunette looked up, her fingers frozen on either hip.

“I should have asked your permission,” she realized, eyes going wide and immediately dropping to the floor (or Casey’s knees, truth be told). “I’m sorry,” she started. “I didn’t mean to--”

“Shh, Liv it’s… it’s not that,” Casey mumbled, a hand going to her face and scrubbing it tiredly, removing the glasses and tossing them to the desk. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt Liv’s soft breath lift from her legs to her abdomen again.

“Then please, Casey, let me--” and she trailed off, lips descending again on the waistband of her teacher’s undies, fingers gently curling around denim and cotton alike and tugging down, tongue swiping at the new skin revealed centimeter by centimeter. The redhead moaned once and then jumped again as Liv’s tongue moved south.

“B-but, I-I really don’t think… you shouldn’t.. because t-then--”

“Because then what, Ms. Novak?” Liv asked quietly, lifting her eyes up and sitting back, looking at a trembling Casey with her knuckles white from gripping the chair so hard in restraint.

“This… just…” and for once, Casey couldn’t articulate her thoughts. She was getting lost in those brown eyes that just begged her to let go, promising so much more if she could forget for one second that all of this should be so wrong. Liv gracefully pulled herself up by Casey’s belt loops, the motion effectively leaning the older woman back in her chair, sliding the jeans off of her hips and placing their lips together, the brunette giving a very soft kiss.

“Shhh,” Olivia murmured against those soft lips, momentarily distracted from her original goal by the treasure she’d found to be Casey’s mouth. Her tongue slipped easily past pink lips, mapping uncharted territory and teasing against Casey’s, a small smile curling her lips against that pliable mouth as her teacher began to kiss back. Pulling away she dropped herself down again, mouth now working on one fair hip, one finger trailing down against Casey’s soft blue panties, a shiver shooting up her spine at the touch.

“Easily excitable, alright,” Liv murmured cockily, earning a slap to her shoulder and a tight grip on one wrist, a second comment dying in her throat as she paused under the silent discipline. She nodded to an unspoken question and slid her hands up those sides, fingertips searching for the lacy bra hiding those gorgeous breasts. Olivia nearly squealed in delight as she discovered it was a front clasp, the bra pushed aside in a moment and palms curving around Casey’s breasts beneath that sweater, her tongue moving idly against the redhead’s abdomen.

Casey rocked her hips insistently, moaning at the sensation flooding through her body and sending not unpleasant jolts to the heat pooling between her thighs. Licking her lips and chewing cutely at her bottom one, the redhead finally indulged in the urge to grip Liv’s hair tightly, squeezing a handful encouragingly, hips moving forward once more. “If I’m going to be insane enough to let you do this, you might want to hurry before I get my senses back,” she warned, and Liv concentrated all her efforts on Casey’s wet heat in the very next moment, a cool stream of air blown at her center as fingers feathered down the damp panties, nearly fingering the opening through the fabric.

“Oh!” was the breathless response in an octave Casey didn’t know she could reach, her fingers clasping around the armrests once more and her back going straight as she sat up suddenly at the spine-tingling sensation Liv had caused. The girl stopped again, mouth hovering over one pale inner thigh.

“Did I--”

“Mmmno,” Casey managed to gasp, her breathing and heart rate wildly out of control. “Nonono,” she mumbled, easing herself back down into a relaxed position. “That was… that was…” she licked her lips, eyes closing slowly as she gulped for air. “Good.” She panted for a moment, Liv’s lips pressing idly against the skin of her thighs and meandering over the skin still being revealed, tremors racing through Casey at every fluttering touch. “L-Liv?” she asked hesitantly, not daring to open her eyes and view Olivia’s face between her legs, the tip of her tongue just drawing a circle on a hip.

“Yes?”

“Do… do it again,” she breathed, lifting herself just a fraction so her jeans would slide past her knees more easily. Eyes going bright at the encouragement, Liv stripped the denim off of the rest of her teacher’s milky, lean legs and proceeded to worship each with kisses and licks. Her fingers scouted ahead in one smooth motion as her lips and tongue and teeth followed, party to shiny spots and small purple marks, mouth warm and soft along silky legs.

“Olivia,” Casey said, a little louder this time, having an extremely hard time controlling the impatient bucking of her hips. “Please,” she urged, eyes fluttering open despite the assault on her calves… now her inner thighs… and the girl stopped (yet again) an infuriating few inches from the wetness Casey wanted that occasionally-too-sarcastic-tongue on.

Smiling, Olivia wrapped her hands around Casey’s waist, pulling those delicious hips forward just to the edge of the chair, her nose nuzzling along the hem to those panties and taking in the redhead’s scent. “Casey, do you have any idea how good you smell?” she murmured, tongue gliding along the skin around those panties. The older woman blushed at both the words coming from the girl at her feet and because she couldn’t stop the arch in her back pushing her hips further into Liv’s face.

“N-no,” she exhaled, slumping in the chair and opening her eyes just a little, nearly melting at the sight of Olivia’s tongue extending toward her wet underwear, the tip of her tongue just tasting the damp cotton.

“Oh, Casey. You smell so good I want to lick your slit up and down until you beg me to do more. I want to lap gently at your juices and tease your opening with my fingers and watch you squirm. I’m going to nibble at your clit until you squeal, and then I’m going to thrust my tongue inside of you slowly so I can savor every inch of you. I’m going to curl my tongue against your walls and draw the honey out of you. Every time you moan I’m going to wrap my lips around your clit and suck harder and harder, and the whole time I’ll be smelling the way I turn you on and push you closer to your edge. Do you want that, Casey? Do you want me to go down on you?” she asked, one fingernail trailing down the length of her teacher’s slit through those panties, Casey whimpering loudly at the contact.

“Yes!” Casey admitted, throwing her head back wildly and spreading her legs wider. “Olivia, I want you to use that mouth of yours and take my panties off with your teeth. I want your tongue to trace lines of fire up my thighs and circle around my center until your lips kiss my clit. I want you to bury your face between my legs and I want to hold your head in place while you lick me up and down. Jesus Christ, I’ve never been this wet before. Liv, do you feel what you do to me? My panties are soaked through and I want you to make me moan as your tongue thrusts in and out of me, I want your fingers to slip through my slick folds and tease my dripping sex with the lightest of touches; Olivia, I want you to make me beg.”

And that was enough incentive, Liv doing as she was told and grabbing those panties between her teeth, dragging the soaked cotton down silky legs and tossing them behind her with a flourish, a grin pulling at those rosy lips before they descended on Casey’s hot center, placing tender kisses that left Casey’s skin feeling burned.

The redhead moaned, arching her back and tossing her head when she felt a cautious, hesitant stroke of tongue slide up and down, stroking her entrance languidly, lips gently sucking at the honey dripping onto the seat. Finally, that tongue thrust inside of Casey, and Olivia nearly melted at the ecstatic, erotic sounds escaping her teacher, that body slumping a little as some of the tension left her, red strands of hair falling over her face.

“Ohhhh,” Casey whimpered, biting her bottom lip and closing her eyes, unable to keep her hips from rocking forward against the tongue still making experimental strokes inside and out. “Oh, God, yes! More, Liv, faster, please!”

Nearly smiling at the insistency of Ms. Novak’s request, Olivia let her teeth scrape gently -earning a high squeak in return- against her teacher’s opening as she lapped at the sweet juice, feeling one bit escape her mouth and dribble down her chin. Savoring the taste, her fingers began to wander, one hand trying to gain a grip on the hips pushing at her face, the other searching up Casey’s body, roving under the sweater and groping at one breast.

Liv’s tongue moved faster now, thrusting in and out against Casey’s velvet walls and drawing the woman closer heights she’d never reached before. Casey slipped a hand into Olivia’s hair and squeezed tightly, squealing as the girl pinched one already-rock-hard-nipple between two fingers mercilessly, her body tensing again as another flood of heat washed through her veins.

“Oh, God, Olivia, you’re going to kill me, I know you are!”

The teen began to alternate sucking and thrusting, her tongue finally drifting up to Casey’s clit and circling the nub, making the redhead moan and groan all the more, her hips rolling against the pleasurable tongue she wanted so much more of.

“P-please… Liv… need…” Casey panted, a completely incoherent mess, beads of sweat breaking out on her pale skin as she felt her body coil tightly, anticipating release. She stroked her fingers gently through those russet locks, able to open her eyes just enough to look down at the girl on her knees, jade hues glazed with passion.

Olivia looked up, brown eyes meeting those desire-filled ones with a matching, heady need and with a small wink Liv nipped at Casey’s clit, sliding two fingers deep into her teacher at the same time and then rubbing as had as she could with the flat of her tongue on that clit, drawing the orgasm from the redhead artfully.

Casey screamed Olivia’s name and slumped immediately, panting her way into recovery as she felt the girl still licking gently at her damp folds even after her walls had released those two heavenly, heavenly fingers. Distantly she recognized Olivia rising to her feet and straddling her lap again, bare ass meeting bare thigh in a mix of slick wetness.

“Oh, my God. Liv… That… that was… Shit,” she finished lamely, eyes fluttering between open and closed as her head fell back against the leather. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

“Here and there,” Liv responded gaily, biting her bottom lip and curling a lock of fiery red-gold hair around a finger, waiting for her lover to gather herself. When she saw Casey was back in the world of reality, she raised those two fingers to her lips, licking them slowly, eyes never leaving those green ones before her. Ms. Novak’s jaw dropped open as she watched her student suck the remaining juices off her fingertips, seeing for just a second the tip of that delightful tongue that she appreciated so much.

“Mmrph,” Casey said inarticulately, eyes wide at the sight of a grinning Liv still tasting a finger lazily. “If you wanted my attention, you’ve got it, baby, oh, do you ever.”

“Good,” Liv murmured, fingers curling in the material of that green vest and fisting around it, her lips crashing down against Casey’s hard, the redhead tasting herself on the insistent younger tongue that had thrust past her lips. She moaned, hands automatically falling to the olive hips and squeezing, the teen squealing encouragingly and grinding forward, her wet folds sliding up and bumping into Casey’s, the older woman now groaning as a fiery heat settled low in her stomach yet again.

Casey swallowed hard and gasped for breath when Liv’s mouth finally left hers, those heavenly lips now descending on her jaw line and neck, teeth nipping incessantly at the pale skin there and suckling, leaving light purple marks in their wake, fingers feathering through the hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. Her hands slid of their own volition to that round ass bouncing on her thighs and grabbed firmly, cupping the girl’s bruised backside and earning a hiss of recognition.

“Don’t forget who did that to you, Olivia,” Casey rumbled, one hand spanking again. Watching Olivia jump with a yelp in her lap was almost too satisfying.

“Y-yes, Ms. Novak,” Liv nodded, brown hair mussed but still bouncing around her bright eyes.

“Now,” Casey murmured, one hand sliding to the crack of that delicious ass and sliding down to dip into Liv’s moist folds once, the contact a sharp dip and so short all the teenager could do was gasp. “Where were we?” the teacher asked, her index finger moving up to Liv’s ass and sliding gently in.

“Ohhhhh,” was all Olivia managed, her back arching and her eyes fluttering closed. The low sound of Liv’s aroused moan nearly made Casey come all over again, a flood of wetness drenching her thighs as she felt those muscles tense around her digit. She slid out and back in quickly, Liv making fluttering little noises in the back of her throat but unable to articulate anything else.

“Oh, come on, baby,” Casey cooed, lips just brushing against parted pink ones in front of her, Liv still unable to open her eyes. “Say something for me. Tell me how good it feels to have my finger up your ass. Tell me how wet it makes you when I thrust inside of you, like this,” she purred, pushing deep and wiggling that slender digit around, Olivia’s mouth falling open and wordless whimpers escaping her. The motion pushed the teen further against her teacher, their chests pushed together and Liv’s fingers gripping Casey’s shoulders for dear life.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered, her head dropping as her entire body shook, tensing and relaxing and tensing all over again at the unusual and foreign (but not unwelcome) sensation of Casey’s finger plunging in and out of her ass, gaining a slow, rolling rhythm.

“I already am, baby,” she murmured, lips sliding along the tan skin of Liv’s jaw and moving to her ear, hot breath against the sensitive lobe before pearly whites clamped down and nibbled, tugging as her finger picked up speed, the motions faster and rocking Olivia back and forth over Casey’s lap. “But I can fuck you harder if you want me to,” she added, licking her way to the pulse point on that elegant neck and leaving her mark.

“Oh, God,” Olivia whimpered, sweat beading on her forehead and one or two trails gliding down her smooth cheeks, her thighs squeezing tightly against Casey’s hips. “P-please,” she started, gulping for air and seemingly unable to get enough. “I-I need… fuck! Casey, y-you feel so good… don’t… Jesus, don’t stop!”

Casey grinned now, making her thrusts agonizingly slow and letting her other hand slide to Olivia’s front, tugging at the button up polo while the teenager gasped for breath on her lap. “Don’t stop? Do you want me to keep going, Livvy? You like my finger in your ass, don’t you, you dirty girl. You want me to do this over and over again, don’t you? Do you want another finger, Olivia? I can do that, if you want me to.”

“Oh-ohhh, please, Casey just… just fuck me! Please, I love the way you make me feel. You make me so wet I can’t stand it, your finger feels so good and I can’t stop my hips from rolling against your hand and pushing deeper inside me. God, Ms. Novak!”

“You’re already so tight, sweetheart. Do you like it like this, nice and slow?”

“N-nno, I like it hard, Ms. Novak, and fast. I like it when you take control and--and--” Olivia’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into Casey’s shoulders as her head dropped, hair falling forward as her back arched and her hips bucked, Casey pulling her finger out nearly to the fingertip before plunging back in just as slowly, taking her sweet time and watching the emotion play out over Liv’s sweet face. “Please,” Liv begged, “please make me come, Casey.”

“Yes, baby, I like to fuck you fast too,” and she sped up her movements. She arched a brow at the last shaky sentence that passed her student’s lips. “You think I can make you come like this?”

“Y-yes, ma’am, I’m so fucking wet,” she admitted breathily, tossing her head back with a blissful sigh that nearly made Casey choke, seeing that young body twist in pleasure. Fuck. She wasn’t sure she could make Olivia come but by now she was willing to try. Ripping the shirt apart and taking the bra with it, she let her lips descend on one round breast as it popped free, tongue immediately circling around a hardening nipple before her teeth clamped down.

Olivia couldn’t breathe, her nails digging so hard into Casey’s shoulders now she was sure she’d leave bruises. She panted for breath, leaning her breasts into the hot mouth and nimble touch of Casey’s lips and hand. Her whole body shuddered at the assault, a yelp escaping her lips as teeth closed almost painfully around one nipple, the bite soothed immediately with the rough flat of Casey’s tongue.

“Fuckfuckfuck-- oh my god, C-Casey I-I--” Olivia panted, her voice getting higher and higher as she tried and failed to gain what little was left of her composure. Her teacher ignored the stammering words falling from those lips, the mumblings lost as those lips wrapped around the other nipple, giving the hardened nub the same sweet attention it’s partner had just received.

Olivia had almost forgotten the finger pumping in her ass until the digit curled gently inside of her, sending jolts to her center, the folds already dripping and a new flood wetting them even more. She forcibly released her hold on Casey’s shoulders, sliding her palms across those slender shoulders down her sides until they worked under the hem to the green sweater and gripped her teacher’s slim waist for support. Another forceful thrust and she moaned louder, dropping her forehead to that shoulder and letting her lips brush tentatively just under Casey’s ear.

“God, this is too good, Livvy. Your ass is so, so tight and every little noise you make just makes me wetter and wetter. Every time you beg I just want to hear more.” Casey licked her lips, her hand feathering down those toned abs with sweet, light touches. Finally she slipped her fingers under that skirt again in the small space between them, cupping Liv’s heat. “You’re so wet, baby. Did I do that? Do you like this that much?” she asked huskily, accentuating the words with a firm push in and out of Olivia’s ass, reveling in the groans rewarding every tiny motion.

“Yes! Yes, Casey Novak, you’ve made me this wet,” she breathed, eyes closed tightly against the sensations flooding her senses. She gripped Casey’s waist tightly, trying not to dig her fingernails into the soft curves she held there. “Please, Ms. Novak, I’ll say anything you want me to say, I’ll do anything, please, please! Just… I need… make me come, please, Casey.”

The begging finally did it. Casey sighed, a grin spreading across her features as her mouth grazed Liv’s ear. “Okay, sweetheart, you’ve earned it. I’m going to make you come,” she promised, sliding her tongue inside that ear at the same pace and time as her finger delved inside that delicious ass yet again, Liv’s breath hitching at the feeling it created. Casey continued this for a few minutes, her tongue swirling lazily around Olivia’s ear and feeling the teen wind tighter and tighter in her lap, squirming against the pleasure racing through her body.

“Are you ready, Livvy baby?” Liv was almost in tears at this point, feeling so wound up and ready for release but just that fraction too far away to reach it herself she nodded silently, her squeezing fingers begging for the end.

Casey let her middle finger slide along Liv’s wet slit until her nimble fingers parted those lips gently, the fingertip feathering at the opening and circling around but never entering. Olivia’s hips bucked against the teasing hand, a whimpering mewl forming in the teen’s throat. Then Casey penetrated Olivia all at once; her tongue slid slowly into her ear, her finger pushed as deep as she could into that luscious ass, and she finally slid one digit into Liv’s wet heat, feeling the walls convulse around her instantly.

“Fuck!” was about all Olivia screamed, that and Casey’s name over and over again as she came harder than she’d ever come before all over Casey’s lap, the tension suddenly going out of her body as she slumped into the embrace, soothing fingers sliding up and down her back.

“Oh, you’re such a good girl, Olivia. The best. My good girl,” Casey murmured, peppering the available skin of Liv’s neck with kisses, teeth nipping only very lightly as her fingers still stroked along those folds, drawing the brunette’s arousal from her yet again.

Liv squirmed, whimpering as her legs tightened around Casey’s middle, her hips grinding unconsciously down into the redhead’s hand before she wrapped her arms around the older woman. Burying her face in the crook of her teacher’s shoulder, Casey shuddered at the warm, panting breaths ghosting over her neck, matched by the hands gently undoing her ponytail and combing her hair to hang loosely around her shoulders.

The brunette started to press her lips lightly against that pale, smooth neck, gliding up to Casey’s ear and humming softly, her mouth gently closing over that lobe and sucking delicately, one of Casey’s hands rising to Liv’s head and tangling her fingers in the dark locks at the base of her neck. Unable to stop herself, Casey tilted her head back, eyes closing as she heard her student chuckle at the motion.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, eyes fluttering open as Liv’s mouth moved over her blushing cheeks.

“Sorry,” Liv mumbled against one cheek, smiling as she slid her tanned fingers around Casey’s chin and guided their lips together, sighing contentedly at the contact. Olivia’s lips were berry sweet and softer than Casey remembered, the redhead satisfied to take things slow with this kiss, squeezing that handful of hair gently. Only the slightest force kept Liv’s head in place as Casey sat up a bit, her tongue swiping forward over Liv’s lips as the teen melted in her mouth, a groan escaping the girl as her teacher kissed her with casual expertise.

“Too-- many-- clothes--” Liv grumbled against those pink lips, their kisses growing hungrier by the second. Her hands were everywhere, liberating Casey from soft knit and her rustling cotton Oxford with lacy bra last to go as she pushed all the clothes aside, pausing to drink in the sight. A light flush ran pink from Casey’s cheeks to her neck, but she withstood the greedy gaze scorching her skin. Each time Olivia’s eyes swept ravenously over her she shivered, flames dancing in the wake of the teen’s leisurely path. Finally her fingers joined her eyes and fluttered exasperatingly softly, and everywhere but her breasts, which ached for her touch.

God, did I really just think that? Casey asked herself, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. But when she opened them again she saw Liv looking at her like she was about to devour her prey and her stomach lurched and tightened and dropped away all at once. Yes, I did.

Olivia leaned in, dropping her hands to those pale globes of flesh and kneading lightly, her mouth hovering along a high cheekbone and offering a chaste kiss while her palms molded Casey’s breasts to the opera of whimpers her teacher elicited. The redhead turned her face up for a kiss, the silky red locks sliding over those shivering shoulders as she tried and failed at regaining her composure, deft fingers delicately tracing unbearable circles around her hardening nipples. Liv was carefully keeping her hands away, just drawing an ever agonizing spiral, the pink areoles tightening in the cool air and under the teen’s fluttering, depriving touch.

“Liv,” she breathed, looking for relief in the form of a kiss, the teacher intent on losing her breathlessness and transferring it to the brunette still straddling her lap.

“What?” Olivia asked almost impatiently, tearing her eyes away from Casey’s delicious chest and dragging them up her slender neck, over her desperately swallowing neck to flushed cheeks to bright green eyes.

“Kiss me.”

Liv looked surprised at the demand, and smiled a little, leaning down and trailing a line of kisses along Casey’s jaw, her tongue darting out just as she reached Casey’s ear. “You didn’t say where,” she murmured, placing a kiss just under Casey’s ear and earning a whimper in response.

“Mnguh,” Casey groaned, a gasp drawn from her as Liv flicked her thumbs over her hard nipples. The shock made her sit up and lean into Olivia’s body, her hands grabbing at those hips and sliding up her sides, down her back and scraping light fingernails over Liv’s flexing spine as the teen arched into her.

“Casey,” Liv breathed, cupping the redhead’s breasts and squeezing just a little, her palms rubbing against sensitive pink nipples and leaving Casey gasping for breath again.

“Kiss me,” the teacher demanded again, but this time it came out like a breathless request. Olivia obliged her this time, and the moment her lips pressed against Casey’s the older woman came alive, her hands grabbing Liv’s butt and holding her tightly as she stood suddenly and backed the teen into the wall behind them. Olivia’s head spun from dizziness and the lack of oxygen, breath knocked out of her by both the impact and the way Casey was sucking at her bottom lip and grinding her hips forward, pinning her to the wall.

“When I say kiss me,” she growled, a hand in Liv’s hair and pulling back sharply to reveal that tanned neck, “I mean now.” She thrust her thigh between the teen’s, licking her way along the curve of Liv’s throat, following her racing pulse. “Understand?”

Winded, Olivia nodded silently and tried to brace herself on the wall, back arching off the cold brick and back into Casey’s hard body, their lips crashing together again and Liv melting with one squeeze of her dark hair. Casey let Liv stand, slowly, making sure she could before she let go and pulled her mouth away, murmuring against Liv's ear. "Don't. Move."

Liv squeaked in response, eyes fluttering closed as she flattened her palms and her back against the cool wall, breathing deeply. Casey grinned, kissing the brunette for all she was worth first, letting her hands wander along Liv’s collarbone and the base of her throat, Casey finally pulling away to trail kisses down over the teen’s chin, straight down her throat, down her chest between her breasts. Pale hands slid down at the same level as Casey’s pouty pink lips, fingertips twisting pert nipples as Casey’s tongue darted out, a low chuckle reaching Olivia’s ears after she squealed again. The redhead kissed her way down over the teenager’s flat tummy, her tongue diving into her belly button for just a moment to leave the girl gasping for air. She felt Liv tremble at that and grinned against the soft skin of her lower abs, tremors visibly shaking the teen when Casey’s hands fell on her slim hips and her mouth hovered just above her neatly trimmed curls. The redhead placed an open mouthed kiss just where her mouth was… then dropped down, bypassing Olivia’s hot center and sliding her hands down to the socks around olive-skinned calves.

“Oh, nono--wait, go-gobackpleaseee!” Olivia whimpered, panting with the effort to stay standing. She couldn’t bear to open her eyes knowing Casey was grinning hungrily up at her.

“Go where, baby?” Casey asked, stripping Liv of her socks and working her way back up one leg, her mouth opened just enough to let her tongue dart out every now and then, sending jolts to the already-throbbing ache between her legs. Olivia covered her face with one hand, her hair falling forward in that ‘totally-sexed-up’ and mussed sort of way as she blushed, knees shaking dangerously.

“Oh, God. I--I-I can’t… please, Casey j-just…” Liv yelped as Casey’s mouth nibbled dangerously close, on a bit of her upper inner thigh that was already slick with her juices. Casey licked her lips, grinning as she saw Liv gape at her, the teen opening her eyes just in time to catch it.

Casey looked up at Olivia, her mouth hovering just an inch away from where the brunette wanted it most. “Say it, Olivia. Tell me and I’ll do it,” she murmured against the other hip, the vibrations so close to her center it set her off again, white-hot need coiling tighter and her eyes fluttering as she whimpered again, feeling cool breath being blown against her sticky thighs.

“Ohoh! C-Casey… please… lick me.”

Licking her lips and grinning, Casey did, inhaling just once and sighing at Liv’s obvious arousal before diving in, her tongue sliding up an down her wet slit, Olivia’ whimpering at the very first contact. The redhead eagerly slipped her tongue in further, drawing a circle around her hot opening. She was rewarded with a long moan and a hand grabbing for her shoulder, a desperate, hoarse groan of “Inside… need your tongue inside of me, Casey,” driving her to further her efforts. She felt Olivia’s fingers digging into her shoulder, however, and she just couldn’t have that.

“You’ve been good… moderately,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Liv’s head rose from where it had been sagging back, eyes blinking bemusedly.

“Wh-what?” she asked, looking down, her fingers still not releasing their uncomfortable grip on her teacher’s pale skin. Without warning, Casey grabbed Liv and tossed her to the floor, her shoulders hitting the desk as she fell back, her butt unceremoniously meeting the floor. Liv's eyes flew open in shock as she felt her wrists being tied together, then raised above her head. When she strained around to look, she realized she'd been tied up with her own argyle socks.

"What the he--"

"Much better," Casey said to herself, and dove between Liv's thighs again without further ado, cutting off the teen's complaint and with one stroke of her tongue pulling a long, shaking orgasm from the girl.

"Ohhh!"

Panting, Olivia tried to open her eyes but failed, seeing stars and light and feeling ridiculously lightheaded. The dizziness wore off enough for her to realize that Casey hadn't stopped.

"Oh-Casey, no, I-I can't! I can't again!" she breathed, squirming until two hands gripped her thighs forcefully and kept them well apart and pinned to the floor. The redhead skillfully slid her tongue around, stroking velvety walls and feeling them contract again. Sucking lightly on Liv’s clit sent her over the edge again.

“Fuck! Ohohoh, I .. again.. Casey I don’t think I--”

“Oh, sweetie you can do so much more,” she murmured, sucking hard and licking up the juices flowing past her lips, feeling a little dribble past her chin. Swallowing, she focused her attention on Liv’s underappreciated clit, nibbling just a little, her teeth scraping gently over the sensitive nub. The sensation made Olivia jump, arching wildly against her restraints, a high pitched whimper rolling from her throat as her muscles tensed.

“No, Casey-- Ca.. plea… ohoh… fuck me, you feel so good,” she cursed, eyes closing and brows furrowing as she began to sweat, feeling her body wind up against her will a third time. The heat in her belly flooded her body and she spread her legs a little more, despite herself. “Oh… Casey.. Please.. Don’t stop. Yes, d-don’t stop… please.” One last rough lick from top to bottom sent the girl to climax a last time before Casey finally slowed her swift pace, her tongue now offering languid licks to clean up the mess she’d made of her student.

“No more, God… Casey, no more, please,” Liv whimpered, brown eyes hazy as she tried to catch her breath.

“No more. For now,” Casey agreed, and looked right back at Liv, green eyes smoldering with the promise of ‘later’.

She smiled lazily, crawling up Liv’s shaking body and draping herself over the girl, kissing the corner of that sweet mouth, Olivia turning her head and swiping her tongue over her teacher’s lips, tasting herself and smiling softly. Casey’s legs straddled Olivia as the redhead tugged at the knots, undoing the stretched socks and releasing Liv’s wrists from their tie to the desk’s leg. Olivia sighed happily, feeling the curves of her teacher pressed softly against hers, hands skirting up her sides and resting gently at her neck and shoulder.

“Comfortable?” Casey asked, nuzzling Olivia’s cheek. The girl shifted, her back leaned awkwardly against the wood desk. With a giggle she rolled them over, one of her thighs pressed between Casey’s and her body now sprawled over pale skin flushed with pink. She twisted a lock of red hair around her fingers and snuggled until her lips just brushed Casey’s neck.

“Mhmm.” The teen nodded, smiling at the blush she felt creep along the older woman’s throat. “You?”

“Mm.” Casey responded, her eyes already closed. Liv pressed a tiny kiss to her teacher’s jaw and grinned.

-

Casey woke with a start, sitting up quickly and regretting it as she hit her head. A hand rubbed the injury under her bangs as she crawled out from under her desk.

"I feel like I have a hangover."

"I tend to have that effect," Olivia said slowly, blowing smoke rings. Casey arched a brow at the teen, naked and lying with her arms (when the hand with the cigarette wasn't holding the aforementioned tar stick to her mouth) and head dangling off of the desk, one leg bent at the knee.

"Yes," Casey said dryly, standing with a hand on her hip as she looked down at the brunette. "Because you do this often. And by this I mean seduce your teacher and fuck her brains out in her own classroom."

Liv grinned, opening her eyes and propping herself up on an elbow, reclining in her glorious afterglow. "Naw. You're special for that. And FYI, Ms. Novak, this is the detention room. Your classroom is upstairs."

"Shut it, smartass. And since when do you smoke?" the redhead asked, finding a bra, donning then shedding it when she realized it was too big and had to be Liv's.

"Since I found it 'relaxing' for after, like the Hollywood cliché."

"Right. Well, as sexy as I must admit you look," as Liv puffed out a stream from a long drag, "I'm afraid you're going to have to kick that habit if you plan on staying with me."

"Staying with you?" Liv asked, sitting up quickly, eyes wide.

"Do I look like the hit-it-and-quit-it type, Miss Benson?"

"N-no, ma'am, it's just-- I thought you were just indulging my fantasies, this once. I didn't realize that you... felt... the s-same w-way as I-I did... do," she stuttered, eye-lashes fluttering down as she banged her heel lightly against the desk. Casey's chest hurt when it got all tight looking at Olivia's adorable blush. God, was she cute when she acted like a child.

"It's just that I want to be sure you're improving with your lessons, Miss Olivia," Casey said, slipping her glasses on and straightening her back, pinning Liv with a 'you wanna play along?' look that lit up a sparkle in those brown eyes.

"Y-yes, ma'am. Are you going to spank me in class again?"

"No, I want you all to myself," Casey growled, stalking to Liv and taking a handful of that soft brown hair tightly.

"Ohh, yes, ma'am. It's just... I-I like an audience, ma'am."

Casey pulled sharply, a knee propping her up against the edge of the desk as she leaned in, her body pressed flush against Olivia's, the girl's head angled back by Casey's tugging hand in her hair.

"Oh, you can have an audience, baby. The places I'll take you, people'll be legal, and I think they'll enjoy it about as much as I do."

"Ow!" the teen yelped, Liv falling back against the wood when a paper under the hand she was bracing on slipped away. Suddenly Casey was hard and dominant above her, a fair thigh thrust between her own and making her moan in pleasure. She felt her teacher's wetness too and allowed herself the smallest smile in between breathless sighs.

Olivia gasped, the smile sliding from her face as her eyes fluttered closed, her hands pinned to her sides and uncomfortably acquainted with the wood beneath her. “Fuck,” she hissed as Casey’s teeth clamped down on her earlobe, back arching into the pale body grinding into her from above.

“Language, Miss Benson. I don’t tolerate that profanity in my home unless it’s followed by a ‘me’ and ‘please, mistress’,” Casey growled, sinking her teeth into the gorgeous arch of Liv’s neck as she writhed, reveling in the deep moan that rolled out of the teen. “And as much as I’d like to bend you over this desk,” she murmured, running a finger thoughtfully over the grainy wood, “I think it’s time we left.”

Liv’s brown eyes opened at that, fear that this was a one time thing (despite Casey’s assurances to the contrary). “Ms. Novak?”

“Yes, Olivia?” Casey asked, drawing herself back far enough for her hair to fall over that gorgeous, apprehensive face.

“Are you sure you--” she began, cut off by a rolling of bright green eyes and a kiss covering her mouth, swallowing her insecurities and melting away any lingering doubts. Liv whimpered when those teeth continued their biting trend and nipped at her lips, and Casey sucked on the bruised bottom lip as she pulled away, earning a indistinct moan in return.

She leaned back down, pressing her mouth lightly against Olivia’s agape one, murmuring huskily against those lips with a lusty fire glimmering in her eyes. “Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question.

But then again, it didn’t have to be.

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:51:57Z

11. Teacher/Student
Part 1/2

A pair of black Converse Oxfords kicked up onto the desk in front of them, a pair of eyebrows rising as the owner of said shoes relaxed in her chair, skirt falling open past the edge of the seat. John's glasses slid down his large nose as he leaned over in his own desk, trying to ascertain what color those panties were when he was knocked forcibly out of his desk, the hard shove knocking the Jew's glasses askew as his long limbs flailed ungracefully on the cool tile.

“Don’t let me catch you lookin’ up her skirt again,” Elliot snarled, the skinnier Munch dusting himself off.

“Oh, shut up, Stabler. Let me know when you stop juicing and actually get a legit glimpse up that particular skirt, then we can actually talk.”

“You wanna start something, smartass?” Elliot asked.

“El, sit down, it’s not like I care if Munch sees. It’s the only time he ever will!”

“I’ll have you know I see plenty--”

“Oh yeah? When?” Stabler challenged, sitting sideways in his chair and rolling up his dress shirt’s sleeves, the navy tie of his uniform already loosened.

“Last time he got online,” Odafin drawled from a row over, flicking through a magazine lazily. Both George and Melinda snickered at the comment, Munch grumbling about being underappreciated as he dropped into his seat.

The chatter went silent as the teacher entered, a pair of green eyes glittering behind a thin black rims and over an amused smirk. “Oh, please, don’t stop talking on my account. All I asked was that you guys keep quiet while I run off some copies. Lucky for you I just made everyone their own pop quiz.”

A collective groan hit Casey Novak from all sides as she strode back to her desk, gray pencil skirt falling just above her knee, a green vest crisp over her slightly unbuttoned white blouse. (Well, only the top two were undone.)

“Noo!” Olivia whined louder than the rest, pouting those rosy lips and hitting her desk in rebellion. Ms. Novak merely smiled, knocking those feet off of the desk swiftly, Liv nearly falling out of her chair at the change in balance. Pouting further, she narrowed those brown eyes, shaking her head to remove longish bangs from her face, tucking a lock behind her ear.

“Please, Miss? It’s like, the last day of school!” Morales piped up as their teacher finished passing out the papers.

“Be quiet and take your quizzes. The faster you start the faster you finish.” And her tone was final.

Of course, Olivia didn’t know the meaning of ‘final’, and certainly didn’t pick up on it in that no nonsense tone. So she got up, leaving her sheet on her desk and appealed to the higher authority.

“May we please not take this test today, in honor of the Christmas -or any other non-denominational holiday anyone in this room might celebrate,” she added, effectively silencing John’s attempted rebuttal about Hanukah, “spirit?”

“While that was a perfectly articulate request, I’ll have to decline.”

“Please?” Liv asked again, tilting her head to one side and swinging a hip, the pleated plaid skirt swishing accordingly.

“No.”

There was then a lightning quick turnaround from polite to bratty.

"Ms. Novak, seriously, this sucks so bad! Come on," she whined, nearly stamping her foot as she stood next to the large desk. "None of the other classes are doing any work, since it's so close to vacation! I don't want a quiz!"

Ms. Novak blinked at her student, surprised at the tone she was taking. Arching a brow at Olivia's whole demeanor, she let a smirk hover around her lips. "I have a niece who is more mature than you."

"Oh, yeah? I bet she's my age, right, all ready to go to college and 'more mature than her years', huh?" Liv said mockingly, air quotes and all.

“She’s four.”

George and Melinda snickered again at the front of the room, the rest of the class still starting on their papers with heads down. Glaring at her friends and blushing furiously, Olivia scooted a half step closer, placing her hand on the desk to brace herself as she leaned into Ms. Novak’s face.

“No one else in the entire school had to read Antigone this year, Ms. Novak. I hardly think it’s fair that we have a pop quiz on it the day before Christmas break. Are you really going to make me take this stupid test?”

Smiling, Casey sighed and leaned back in her chair, lacing her fingers together with her elbows resting on the armrests of the large maroon swivel chair. “No, Olivia, I’m not going to make you take the quiz.”

“What!” Elliot burst indignantly, his head popping up from behind O’Halloran’s crouched figure. “Liv complains and she doesn’t have to take it? Well, hell, I don’t want to take this shit either!”

“Language, Stabler! If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a million times I don’t want to hear those words in my classroom, even if Coach Tucker uses them with the lacrosse team!”

“…still bullshit,” he mumbled, dropping his cheek onto his fist and twiddling his pencil, glaring down at the short-response questions.

“One more word and you go to Principal Cragen’s office with a holiday detention slip.”

“Mother fu--” his words trailed off into enough wordless grumbling to satisfy Casey, who turned back to the rather proud Olivia standing quite close to her, those tanned thighs the first thing she saw as she flicked her green eyes over her student.

“Now, Olivia. Where was I?”

“I don’t have to take the test.”

“Ah, yes. No, you don’t have to. You do, however, have to write a 5000 word essay on whining and why it is annoying. My rule, number three on my list if you’ll remember, Miss Benson, of ‘No whining, ever’ will feature prominently. It will be due the day you get back, or you will begin with a zero for the next semester and I will negate your fall final.” Ms. Novak smiled sweetly, breaking into a grin at the horrified look dawning on Olivia’s face. “It is worth three test grades. Any questions?”

“Yes, are you freaking insane?”

“No, but you’re acting like an immature toddler when I know that you know this book. You answer all my questions with ease, you don’t even look up from texting and you’re lucky I don’t take that phone up everyday. I don’t because you seem to be able to split your attention well enough that I commend you for the multitasking. I have my rules and you’ve broken one. Shattered it, really, I’ve never heard a teenager hit that pitch before.”

“I’m not doing it,” Olivia stated definitively, crossing her arms.

“Oh? I thought you might say that.” Ms. Novak smiled again, turning briefly to her desk and pulling out a few supplies, putting them innocently enough on her desk, pushing her chair back a bit.

“What are you doing?”

“You want to act like a five year old? Fine, I’ll treat you like one. Come here.”

“What are you doing?” She repeated, losing some of that attitude and dropping her arms, fingers worrying the hem of her skirt as it just fell to mid thigh, Ms. Novak uncrossing her legs and arching a brow.

“I didn’t take you for a parrot, Olivia. Five year olds get spankings when they’re disobedient, and obviously nothing I do is going to convince you to be the rational young woman I know you are. So you will take this spanking and hopefully think very carefully about how you speak to me in the future.”

“Now I know you’re insane!”

“Are you going to get on my lap willingly or will I have to send you to the principal’s office with a note pinned to that little polo of yours, like a child?”

Liv's voice dropped to a hissing whisper. "In front of everyone? You're going to spank me, right here, right now?"

Casey pinched the bridge of her nose, moving her glasses out of the way momentarily. She resettled the spectacles and brushed her bangs to one side. "Yes. I don't know how I can make myself any more clear, and if you don't lie on my lap in three seconds, your punishment will get worse."

“But--”

“One.”

“Ms. Novak, you can’t be serious!”

“Two.”

Olivia’s mouth gaped for another half a second before she quickly threw herself over the woman’s legs, feeling the muscles shift beneath her torso at the sudden weight, her cheeks hotter than the sun and her hair falling forward to hide her blush.

John’s mouth was open slightly, as he’d watched the entire altercation. Another bruised shoulder from Elliot’s knuckles reminded him he had a test to finish taking, but not without another few muttered threats passing between the boys.

Casey nearly purred as she watched the girl present herself, and she was glad she hadn’t written her up for the too-short skirt yesterday, the plaid material just touching the back of those delicious (she was NOT enjoying this all too much!) thighs. Ms. Novak’s eyes flicked up to the rest of her students, most of whom were diligently writing and bubbling in their answers. Satisfied with her class, her left hand fluttered into place on Olivia’s back, fingernails scratching gently over the pique cotton once. Liv clenched her fists, draped so far on either side of Ms. Novak’s thighs that she had to keep one hand on the floor to keep her balance. She sighed and tried not to notice how silky smooth Ms. Novak’s legs were, and she really tried not to wonder how they would feel to the touch, especially that creamy calf, her right hand could just reach right-- no!

“Are you ready?”

“No, actually, I--OWWwww, sonofa,” Liv threw a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with surprise at the force with which she was being hit. Glancing up at her teacher, who was still raining blows on her backside -and thighs, occasionally, and her hand stung like hell- with insane calmness.

“Unless you want an audience I suggest you keep your voice down, Miss Benson,” Casey said casually in a low voice, looking down at the girl across her lap and watching her reactions carefully to make sure not to push too far. Still looking down, she spoke in a louder voice.

“Keep your eyes on your own paper, Mr. Morales, and John, if you can’t pick your jaw up off the floor ask Stabler to help you, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to oblige… though I can’t guarantee that if he has to help it will be in one piece by the time he is through.”

Several heads twisted back into place, with another yelp from Munch before the room went silent again.

Casey smiled to herself at the response, and the smirk stayed in place on her rosy lips as she kept up a steady rhythm, finally feeling Olivia start to squirm over her thighs unhappily, her back arching in an effort to evade the blows without seeming too disobedient. Unfortunately, Casey saw it and thwacked her between the shoulder blades sharply, a tiny whimper escaping the teen’s mouth and (not) sending a shiver through the redheaded teacher.

“Ms. Novak,” Liv finally said softly, having lost count of the spankings and just wanting it to stop. “Ms. Novaaaak,” she whimpered, fingers finally breaking free of Liv’s will and scratching softly at those smooth legs, Casey almost jumping at the sensation before she realized what it was. “Stop, stop, it hurts!”

Arching an elegant brow, Ms. Novak continued, murmuring down at her wiggling brat. “Well, sweetie, I hate to tell you this, but-- that’s the point.” And she accentuated the last word with a harder smack, a yelp similar to Munch’s escaping this time before Liv bit her bottom lip hard, determined not to let these ridiculous sounds leak from her mouth.

“But, pleaaase, stoooop,” Liv said in her shakiest, sorriest voice, throwing in a theatric sniffle for good measure. Rolling her eyes, Casey sighed.

“I don’t know who taught you that whining would get you anywhere, Olivia, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that this was such a problem earlier.”

“You’re sorry?” John muttered to himself, glancing up over the rims of his glasses at Liv’s legs poking out from behind Ms. Novak’s desk, one of her knee high socks slipping down a little bit. Elliot, who had been watching his pervy friend like a hawk, growled and kicked Munch in the back of the leg, earning a big, “Ow, what the hell, Stabler!”

“Munch!”

“Sorry, Ms. Novak,” he said quickly, certainly not about to miss out on this show because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Still glaring daggers at the buff Elliot, he was met with an icy blue gaze that just begged him to try again. Grumbling for the nth time that day, John turned again to his questions, pissed off because he totally didn’t care ‘Why was it important for Antigone to allude to the curse of her father in Scene IV, especially at that point of the play?’

“Ms. Novaaaak!” Olivia whined again, attracting all of the teacher’s attention once more. Sighing heavily a second time, Casey landed her last blow and dropped her hands, crossing her arms over her chest (unintentionally emphasizing that full bosom of hers, practically on display with that undone shirt -and was that black lace under there? Stop it, Olivia! The woman just spanked you, for God’s sake!) with a rather unamused look on her face.

“Get up, Olivia.”

Thinking that her act had worked, Liv did what she was told, still rubbing her rather bruised ass once or twice, knowing it was nice and red beneath her skirt by now. “I’m sorry for whining.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!” the girl insisted with a rising voice, the crocodile tears that had been filling her eyes blinking away as soon as her lie seemed to be caught. She was met with a cool emerald gaze, an arched brow conveying all the doubt she felt. When Olivia couldn't hold her eyes, she knew she was right.

“That’s what I thought. I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“Apology accepted, Ms. Novak.”

Casey had been standing up, and nearly fell back into her seat, incredulity furrowing those brows, a hint of a smile around that open mouth. “What did you just say to me?” Some heads popped up, eyes furtively watching the front of the classroom.

“I said I accept your apology, Ms. Novak. This was entirely uncalled for but I don’t need to take it to the administration or anything, now that you’ve just said you’re sorry. It’s alright,” she said brightly, turning to go back to her desk. Casey stood quickly and caught her by the elbow, fingers clasped firmly around that arm. “What the--”

“I was not apologizing for disciplining you, Olivia. I was apologizing because you obviously don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ve never had any problems with you before, mainly because you stay quiet. I’m wishing I had known about your attitude long before this, and I apologized because this is only going to get worse for you. That mouth is going to get you in loads of trouble, and you don’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Now you have five seconds to bend over that desk and take your spanking like an adult.”

“Wh--you--serious? I-- another spank-- … y-y-you’re kidding… you’re not? Fu-- shi… the hell do you… no!” She sputtered, trying to jerk her arm away from a dead serious Casey Novak. By now the entire class had stopped testing, looking on in total shock as Ms. Novak twisted that arm skillfully and pinned Liv’s face to her desk, the brunette’s ass suddenly on display as their teacher flipped up the uniform skirt and revealed dark green, bikini cut undies. Most of the class gasped, with an audible, “You owe me ten bucks, Fin, I TOLD you they’d be a dark color-- OW! Screw you, Elliot, everyone can see, you gonna punch them in the face too?!”

Olivia was still trying to talk her way out of this, embarrassment not even set in with the fact that her ass was on display. “Ms. Novak! Seriously! Stop, this isn’t funny!”

“I never said it would be, and I suggest you use that mouth to start apologizing. I would like to hear, ‘I will not whine’, if you please, Miss Benson.”

“I most certainly will NOT say-- FUCK!”

“Language, Miss Benson!”

“You’re fucking hitting me with a fucking ruler, I don’t think I care about my fucking langu-- OW!”

Casey swiftly brought the wooden ruler down on Olivia’s ass again, the ‘innocent’ item suddenly anything but and the source of immense pain as she felt the instrument stripe her behind. “What did I tell you to say, Miss Benson?”

“Fuck you, Ms. Novak!”

“Ooooh, she thinks she can cop an attitude with me!” Thwack, smack, pow! She criss-crossed her strokes and left what looked like an asterisk on the back of each thigh, those legs kicking unhappily at the sensations.

“Stop iiiit, Caseeeeeyyy,” Olivia suddenly said, and the redhead nearly did at the sound of her name rolling off of those lips. Controlling herself, she merely cleared her throat, keeping a hand on her back with her wrist still pinned there to keep her in place.

“That is not what I told you to say, that is whining,” she began, emphasizing every word with a stroke from the ruler, keeping count in her head and waiting until those legs stopped moving before continuing. She was aware that all the jaws had dropped to their respective desks or floors, but she didn’t have time to tell her students off for not finishing the quiz. “I told you to say you’re sorry. I told you to take the quiz. I told you to promise me that you won’t whine anymore, because I will not stand for it. Do you understand?”

There wasn’t an answer, just an angry hiss at the next few blows, her thighs thoroughly striped and her ass burning hotter with each stroke. “I asked you do you understand, Olivia, and I expect an answer!” SMACK! That hit was harder than any that came before, and Casey saw John fall out of his chair out of the corner of her eye. Almost smiling, she waited patiently for Liv to answer her, pointing the ruler at Elliot without taking her eyes off of Olivia’s face, hidden by her hair.

“El, please wait to beat him up until after school. And do it across the street, where the administration won’t see. And if it gets back to me that I condoned it, I will have your ass in holiday detention until next year.”

“I’m a senior, though, Ms. Novak--”

“Exactly.”

“Right,” he said quickly, sinking in his seat and trying not to watch his best friend’s butt get whipped. But, as with most spectacles, he couldn’t look away, and merely broke a pencil between his fingers. And then another… and another… and he reached to Liv’s empty desk in front of him for her bag, proceeding to snap anything he could between his hands as Olivia let out a wordless whine.

“I can keep this up all day, Miss Benson, don’t think I won’t.”

“M’sorry,” she muttered, pressing her cheek against the cool wood and closing her eyes, tears springing unbidden to her eyes at the disappointment in her teacher’s words.

“What was that?” Casey asked casually, tilting her head to one side, bangs falling over those glasses and hiding the twinkling in her eye. She was not enjoying this too much. This was for Olivia’s own good. She had been asking for it. Bending over a desk in front of her peers was not extreme. It wasn’t. She was NOT enjoying this.

"I said, I'm sorry," Olivia said loud enough for everyone to hear. As much as she was the effervescent, bubbly, popular girl of the school, she was also tough as nails, and she didn't apologize and she didn't admit she was wrong. Eyes went wide as the admission was heard, and Liv bit her bottom lip, emotional pain mounting and starting to surpass the physical. She was half numbed anyway, the hits methodical and predictable.

"Did I tell you to say that?"

"Yes," Olivia responded quickly, though without any of her previous attitude. Arching a brow, Casey realized she had requested an apology.

"Good, you remembered. Anything else you'd like to say? I think the class has had about enough. I don't want to have to call an ambulance for John because his heart stopped."

"Jesus, Munch, stop drooling for God's sake!"

"When you've died and gone to heaven, Fin, then you can tell me to stop drooling. Excuse me."

Casey was still hitting, firmly and swiftly with the ruler, the stinging continuing to increase as she varied her blows, working her way across the panties, the thin cotton hardly any protection for the reddened and thoroughly abused backside of Olivia Benson. "Olivia?"

"I will not whine," she whispered into the wood, brows furrowing as she screwed her eyes shut, determined not to cry. Thwack! She took in a shuddering breath and tried to keep her voice even as she spoke a little louder. "I will not whine, Ms. Novak," she managed, croaking out her teacher's name and pounding her free hand against the desk, her legs kicking once more, black Converse scuffing the floor.

"One more time, nice and loud, baby," Casey cooed, maintaining her composure even though that term of endearment slipping from her mouth had horrified her. Fuck. She *was* enjoying this. Entirely too much! She needed Olivia to hurry up and admit she was wrong, and she put just a little more oomph into the next hit, Liv yelping before finally breaking completely, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I will not whine, ma'am! I'm sorry, Ms. Novak, I won't whine ever again, I promise! Please, please, stop."

Swallowing hard, she immediately ceased, throwing the ruler down. Without taking her eyes off of Olivia, she flicked a hand at the rest of the class.

"Dismissed."

Even with the tone of voice, and the obvious need for them to be alone, no one could move. All of the students found themselves frozen by what they had witnessed. Munch was the first to move, standing up and starting to clap. He got two out before Elliot woke from his stupor.

“Brav-OW!” Elliot finally punched John in the nose, George making a note to calm his friend down after lunch. “You piece of crap jock!” Munch whined from the floor, kids simply looking at him. Stabler pushed up his sleeves, blue eyes flashing.

“I told you, and Ms. Novak told you, and--”

“Ms. Novak also said get out,” Casey interrupted, a hand laid to the small of Olivia’s back as she crossed in front of her protectively, mostly hiding the girl from view. “Leave your quizzes on the desks and go to lunch. If anyone asks, tell them I gave you permission to have the extra half hour.”

The kids shook off their paralysis at that and heaved into motion, shuffling out the door and filing into the hallway. Fin slung on his bag and rolled his eyes at Munch, who was still shaking his fist and yelling obscure curses at Elliot’s back.

“Come on, whine-box, get up. If your nose ain’t bleedin’ then it ain’t broken. Quit actin like a little girl before Ms. Novak beats yo skinny ass, too.”

Munch’s pervy grin appeared as he was helped up from the floor. Fin saw it and held up a hand, closing his eyes tightly. “No. Don’t even start, forget I said that.”

“Don’t act like she isn’t suddenly the center of all the guys’ twisted fantasies now, my friend, and I bet some of the girls’ too--”

“Out!” Casey commanded, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her other hand began to rub soothing circles against the pique cotton of Olivia’s shirt as soon as she heard the door’s lock click into place. She felt a tremble slide down Liv’s back and her eyes flickered over the slim figure. Her socks were falling down around her calves, the back of her thighs were marred with red strips and-- ha. Casey bit her lip to hide the smirk that tried to curl her lips when she realized Liv’s panties were just a little bit wet. In most cases, Casey would’ve taken full advantage of that, but right now despite whatever she felt, she would remain professional. She gently pulled the skirt back into place and stepped behind her student, guiding her into standing up. One hand was light on one hip, the other on Olivia’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, Olivia?”

Liv wiped at her face, running a shaky hand through her hair, feeling spent and broken, but somehow alright now that Ms. Novak wasn’t mad at her anymore. “Y-yes, I-I think so.”

“Good,” Casey said, turning the girl around a placing a hand on either shoulder. She looked at Liv’s face, the teen blushing all over again as an emotion she couldn’t name blossomed in her chest. She’d suddenly realized how beautiful her teacher was, and she dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Ah ah, no. Look at me, Olivia.”

Lashes fluttered shyly and Liv looked up, brown eyes big and suddenly reflecting vulnerability.

“You know that was for your own good, right?”

“Yes’m,” she replied softly, twisting her fingers together and wanting to tear her eyes away from the intense jade hues.

“I don’t like punishing you,” (Liar! A voice screamed in her head) “but I don’t like disobedience more. Olivia, the quiz was just that; a quiz. A participation grade for Pete’s sake! There was no need for all the fuss and certainly none of the whining. I will make sure this doesn’t get around-- though I suspect Elliot is already doling out damage control, I need to get that boy to an anger management counselor-- and please, don’t think that I have lost any respect for you. I think no less of you, sweetheart, I just needed to teach you a lesson that you’d missed somewhere before. Do you understand, honey?” Casey asked, tempted by a strong urge to comb her fingers through Liv’s russet locks and squeeze reassuringly.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Casey said, drawing Olivia in for a hug. One hand finally did find its way to petting the soft hair on Liv’s head as the girl buried her face in Casey’s shoulder. “Oh, shh, it’s okay, Olivia,” Ms. Novak murmured, feeling the slender shoulders quake in her embrace. “Now, I know how silly this may sound, but I don’t want anything to change between us, alright?” She felt a nod against her collarbone and smiled, slowly detaching herself from the teenager. One hand lifted that chin with a light touch.

“No more crying. Go on to lunch and I’ll see you when we get back from winter break, alright, Liv?”

“Yes, Ms. Novak.”

Casey collapsed into her chair the moment Olivia left, pressing her face into her hands and finally letting the adrenaline surge through her body with a quiver, feeling a sore throbbing in places she’d carefully controlled.

Jesus in a purple prom dress. I’m attracted to a student, Casey thought. I’m attracted to a student and I spanked her in the middle of class. She groaned, removing her glasses so she could drop her head onto her folded arms on her desk. God, why did you make that girl so freaking attractive? Shit. Least you could’ve done was shuffle the cards better… it might’ve been fine if we were, I don’t know, co-workers. Now? I can’t touch her again, or I’m screwed.

…

Fuck.

--

Casey walked through the halls, waving her fingers at the few fellow faculty members she saw scattered across the campus the second day of holiday vacation. One more and even they’d be free, but this was the day for the purest of punishments; holiday detention. It was fluff job; no one ever gave it, but it was a serious enough threat, and the teachers made sure to keep a rumor going that at least one or two kids actually had to show up.

Yawning and taking a sip of her hot chocolate, she set down her bag and fished out a book, plopping in her chair and kicking her feet up onto the desk, settling in for a long day of sitting on her ass doing jack-shit and getting paid for it.

Of course, she hadn’t banked on the sex on legs walking in the door less than ten minutes later.

Casey tipped her glasses down her nose, green eyes flicking from head to toe on the well dressed teenager approaching her desk. Hair brushed back, parted impeccably, bangs falling just so over mischievous brown eyes, a dark green coat undone to reveal a skin-tight black shirt with a diving neckline, a shimmery silver necklace falling just between those heavenly (where the fuck was this train of thought going?) breasts as a point of drawing the eye’s attraction. A slice of skin was visible just above those pair of low-rise jeans slung low on those tanned (yes, even in the middle of winter) hips. And of course, the Converse.

Liv put a hand on her hip, the other hand sliding into one of those coat pockets. “What are you doing here?”

“I happen to work here,” the teacher responded, leveling the rather audacious student with a cool gaze.

Olivia rolled her eyes, dropping her bag onto the first desk in front of Casey's desk. "Duh. I mean what are you doing in this room, I thought this was holiday detention."

“It is,” she responded, pushing her black frames back up her nose and resuming her previous position, settling into the plush leather chair and humming quietly to herself.

“B… but… Mr. Granger gave me the detention, I thought it’d be him!”

“Do you have a problem with me running this detention, Miss Benson?” Casey asked, arching a brow as she tore her eyes away from a sentence, an impatiently tapping finger marking her place. Liv’s eyes went a little bit wide as she recognized that tone.

“No, ma’am,” and she quietly began to sit.

“Good. Now I won’t ask why you managed to piss off your teacher so badly that he actually signed you up for this. As you may have noticed, it’s all a bit of a hoax. However, when you’re on school campus you are required to wear your uniform, Miss Benson,” Casey said, calmly turning the page.

“I don’t have my uniform, Ms. Novak, I didn’t know I needed to wear it today.”

“Fortunately for you there is a spare in my desk. Come get it and change. In a timely fashion, please, though we do have all day,” she realized, a smirk curling one half of her mouth as Liv rose with a small wince. She checked the drawers on Casey’s right, but didn’t find it. Ms. Novak gave no recognition of Olivia’s closeness as the girl leaned over her legs, chest pressing against thighs through her own denim jeans. Liv found the bag of clothing in the bottom left drawer, dragging herself into standing rather purposefully before striding out of the room.

“Shit,” Casey breathed, dropping her book to look at her shaking hands. What a fucking tease! The contact had the redhead’s heart racing, and she undid her scarf a little, letting the teal knit hang limply around her shoulders, a hand fanning herself as she dropped her head back against the chair.

Get it freaking together, Casey. She’s a kid, for god’s sake. Your student! Nothing can-- nothing *will* happen.

Casey almost immediately regretted the decision the minute Olivia walked back in. Almost being a key word. Because when you get to see that much leg and that much --good Lord, the girl had some breasts on her!-- chest... well, it was worth it. The redhead just prayed she wouldn't drool.

The uniform was about three sizes too small for Olivia, but she’d put it on anyway. The plaid skirt was a scrap that just barely covered her ass while she was standing, leaving a long expanse of thigh to knee. Of course, the socks were big enough, and followed the slim curve of her calves, navy diamonds overlapped with white and black. She was wearing a traditional button up, the crisply ironed cotton straining to contain Liv’s voluptuous breasts, Casey dropping her eyes as she noted that there were three buttons undone and that Olivia had the sweetest pink bra on under that shirt and damn that necklace for drawing her attention to it!

Olivia placed her folded clothes in her bag and sat in the front desk, making a face as her sore backside was met with stiff, cold wood. Casey let her stew for another minute as she finished the chapter in her book, then tossed it to the desk, crossing her arms in that damned green sweater of hers. Liv had a love/hate relationship with that sweater. Love because it fit to Ms. Novak‘s torso just beautifully, following the curve of her breasts and making her arms all the more slender and being that tiny bit too short, a glimpse of skin at the small of her back. Hate because she was constantly distracted by the stunning view.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Novak, what?”

“I said, ‘I hope you’re paying attention, Miss Benson, because this is dreadfully important.’ I was quite sure you weren’t listening.”

Olivia blushed, dropping her head and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sorry.” Casey allowed herself a smile and sat up, dropping her legs from their propped up position the desk.

“It’s alright, Olivia. Come get some paper.”

“Yes’m. What for?” she asked as she approached the desk, leaning over a little to reach for the loose-leaf her teacher held in her hand. Casey pointedly ignored the way she felt her heart thud when she saw nearly all of that bra. Did the girl not know how to dress herself, or was she just button-retarded? Fuck!

“An essay.”

Olivia looked a little disgusted, but resigned, as if she’d expected something similar. “Figures. What do you want me to write about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Casey said airily, waving a hand as she looked around, seeming to cast about for a subject. “Five thousand words… on…” and her green eyes flicked to Liv’s brown ones in an instant, a hint of a smile whispering about those lips as they formed around the words, “whining and why it is annoying.”

Liv’s jaw dropped and she only made one sound of protest before she vividly remembered the last time she’d complained. Swallowing her words and her pride, she nodded and returned to her desk, writing almost as soon as she sat.

Casey allowed herself lingering glances over the top of her book as Olivia wrote, feeling pangs of something she didn’t want to name warm her as she watched the girl bite the end of her pencil. Then lick, then -dear Lord- suck on the damn thing, rinse and repeat. Liv’s mouth worked over the eraser, and not without the aid of her quick pink tongue, which dashed out to wet the corner of her mouth or her bottom lip occasionally.
Olivia watched her teacher furtively from under her bangs when she thought Ms. Novak wasn’t looking. She swallowed hard when she looked at the fair face, eyes flicking intently over her book as she turned the pages quickly, devouring the novel as she wished she’d devour her-- yeah, she was crushing. Fantasizing, crushing, falling for; the works. Clearing her throat slightly, Liv bit her bottom lip, watching Casey shift in her seat, pale fingers worrying at her exposed collarbone.

What I wouldn’t do to just kiss that-- no. She’d never…

About three hours later, Olivia got up, stapled her pages together and turned them over to Casey, who arched a brow, nearly voicing the thought that, “You actually did it without complaint?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I? Smiling slightly, Casey nodded toward where Olivia had been sitting, indicating that she could return to her desk. “Yes, yes. I think you quite learned your lesson.” Both pairs of eyes dropped and missed the hot flush blossom across the other woman’s cheeks at the memory.

Ms. Novak flipped to the first page, and laughed outright. With a smile on her face she scanned through the rest of the pages, finally setting the packet down and removing her glasses to rub her face thoroughly.

“Well done, Miss Benson.”

“Thank you, Ms. Novak,” Liv replied, smiling and crossing her legs, arranging her skirt as she did so. Casey looked down at Olivia’s essay, 4,998 words of ‘No whining, ever’, with quotes, and the last two scrawled a the bottom of the last page. Olivia Benson.

“I think that’s enough for now. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Is-- can we.. I mean, are we allowed to?” Liv asked, tangling a finger in her hair as she fought off an embarrassed blush for her stutter.

“I certainly can, and I doubt anyone is going to check up on us. If they do, you were escorted by a teacher to get some lunch.”

“Whatever,” Olivia agreed, grabbing her bag and swinging on her coat. “Let’s go.”

-

They walked back in from lunch, and Casey was relieved that there was no apparent awkwardness or weirdness between them. Olivia had jumped right into chatter about what she was going to do for the next couple weeks, and whenever there was a lull in conversation they fell back to talking about last year’s lacrosse season, the redhead a one-time Coach Novak for the struggling team.

“How much longer do we have to be here?”

“Til three, as if it were a normal school day.”

“That sucks,” Liv stated bluntly, sitting on the edge of Casey’s desk as the teacher arranged herself in that chair again right next to her. Olivia swung her legs absently, seeming to be looking down but actually watching her teacher from under her bangs again, brown eyes drinking in the poised elegance as Casey pulled her long red-gold hair into a low side pony-tail. Casey turned to the teen, pushing her glasses up her nose, furrowing her brows lightly.

“Something wrong, Olivia?”

Next thing Casey knew, Olivia was on top of her, legs straddling her hips and fingers cupping her chin and full lips on hers, a plundering tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. She started to ask what the hell she thought she was doing, but it only gave Liv a way in, Casey’s fingers digging involuntarily into Liv’s hips as a strained groan hummed in her throat.

Casey let a full groan go when Liv’s tongue continued to ravage her mouth, one hand squeezing the back of her neck tightly while the other slid down to her chest, fingers playing expertly over one breast.

“Unghhh,” she mumbled around Olivia’s mouth, which was still demanding and insistent and hot over hers, Casey’s back arching into the touch briefly before her hands slid down to exposed thighs, pushing at the teenager's hips to finally get her away. Shaking her head, she blinked, glasses slightly askew, lips slightly swollen.

"What the hell has gotten into you, Olivia?!"

Her answer was another searching kiss, hips bumping down in a slow, rolling grind as well, making Casey jump in her chair. She finally jumped up, pushing Olivia away and holding her at arm's length, a hand covering her mouth as she tried to gather herself.

"Olivia!"

"I want you." She stated simply, chest heaving a little bit, Casey not helped by the vision of purple lace underneath that white shirt.

"What?" She asked, eyebrows flying toward her hairline with incredulity.

"I want you, Ms. Novak."

"Olivia, I don't think that would be--"

"Don't act like you don't want me."

"Whether I want you or not is irrelevant, Olivia. You're a minor, and furthermore--"

"But I'm not, I'm eighteen! I can make my own decisions and I want you," she said, pushing aside the arm holding her at bay and wrapping her arms around the redhead's slim body, fingernails scratching devilishly down Casey's spine, a shudder shooting through her entire body. She kissed Casey's bottom lip, then chin, then neck, dragging her tongue up to one fair ear. "I want you to spank me again, Ms. Novak."

And the teenager pushed the older woman back into the position they were before, this time two roving tanned hands sliding up inside the green sweater hiding her teacher from view.

"You want me to do what?" she exclaimed, trying and failing at not melting under the brunette's rather experienced touch, fingers grasping at whatever skin she could find on the lithe, young body before she realized what she was doing.

"Spank me, please," she begged, fingers curling at Casey's collar, her mouth just pressing against the shell of one ear, her breath hot and her voice velvet. "I enjoyed it, for god's sake. Every hit, I wanted more and I don't know why but please, I'd do anything if you'd just spank me, Ms. Novak."

Well, what the *fuck* was she supposed to say to that?! She opened her mouth to try and convince Olivia otherwise when she sucked in a sharp gasp, Olivia’s tongue slipping into her ear slowly, lips pressed in a kiss against her skin while that pink muscle did things she didn’t believe possible. Shuddering, Casey struggled for breath, eyes fluttering closed as Liv’s tongue circled around the shell, dived in and slid back out. She nearly lost it when she felt teeth clamp down on the lobe of her ear and tug. “Please. Casey, please.”

“You need to work on your begging, Olivia,” Casey mumbled, fingers itching to rove over that body as she began to gather herself, Liv easing off Ms. Novak’s ear and bathing that pale neck with kisses and little nips instead.

“Ms. Novak, please spank me. I’ve been bad and I enjoyed it and I want you to spank me again because I’ve been really, really naughty.”

“Better. You also need to work on knowing your place, girl.”

"What?" Liv asked against the skin of the redhead's neck, pulling back slightly with her forearms resting on those shoulders. She was met with a confident, cool green gaze, as if Casey had suddenly found herself.

"Did I say you could touch me, Olivia?"

"N-no, but you weren't going to--"

"It doesn't matter what I was going to do. I do as I please. You are just a naughty little schoolgirl who thinks she gets whatever she wants. You learned your lesson about whining, but not about how to do what I say."

"Y-yes, I did, I swear--"

"More back-talk!" She tsked, shaking her head.

Olivia opened her mouth again, trying to protest on her own behalf when she saw the glint behind those glasses. She pulled back her hands, still straddling Ms. Novak's lap as she nodded her head down, hair falling forward to hide her face.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Too late. Turn over, Olivia."

Liv inhaled, looking up expectantly at the words falling from those gorgeous red lips. "Are you going to--"

“Don't make me repeat myself, Miss Benson, or you won't like the result.”

“Yes, Ms. Novak,” Olivia said slowly, biting her bottom lip and resisting the urge to draw her finger down that fair neck and circle at the ‘v’ of the emerald sweater. Olivia slowly slid backwards, her ass skimming over those denim clad thighs teasingly, the teen inhaling as the friction on her backside caused a tiny jolt to shoot through her. Gritting her teeth against the sensation, Casey slapped the available thigh, snapping her fingers.

“Hurry up, you little tease. I still haven’t given you permission for any of that.” Nodding quickly, the brunette stretched out over her teacher’s lap, this time bracing herself against the edge of the chair, her black Converse resting on the floor on the other side.

Casey took a deep breath, straightening her glasses and glancing up once, confident that the door was locked and that no one could see inside. Plus, considering it was after lunch, the likelihood of anyone being in the building was slim to none, let alone coming to find her or Olivia. Setting her jaw, she shifted, sitting up straighter in her chair.

“So, you like to touch without permission, hmm?”

“Y-yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

“Sure, you’re sorry now. Sorry now that you know you’ll be punished for your actions. You’ve been a flirt,” and Casey smacked that behind once with the flat of her hand for emphasis on the word, “the entire year.” Olivia took in a deep breath, trying to contain the strangely contented sigh that escaped her. She didn’t know why she enjoyed it, but God, did she ever.

“Yes, Ms. Novak.”

Smack, smack, smack! Casey was just working into a slow, warming-up sort of rhythm. “Care to explain why you were a tease to me, to Elliot and anyone else that gave you the time of day?”

“I like the attention, Ms. Novak-- oww,” her answer her answer interrupted by a whimper that escaped. Remember, the ruler marks hadn't completely faded and the fair hand had fallen to those thighs. "But I did it so you'd notice me."

Rather shocked by the confession, Casey bit her tongue, swallowing some other remark she really didn’t mean. Licking her lips, she chewed on the bottom one briefly, one hand resting on the small of her back, fingertips grazing lightly over the skin visible there, the other’s fingers tracing over the lines the plastic ruler had left just three days ago.

“Why in the world would you want me?” Casey murmured, sighing and starting to doubt herself.

“Because you’re beautiful,” Olivia murmured, her fingers scratching at her teacher’s jeans encouragingly. Casey, warmed by the honest praise, swallowed hard and cleared her throat, landing several more smacks on that almost-revealed bottom, the skirt hardly worth mentioning.

“Did I say you could talk?” It was ridiculous how easily she slipped back into the role.

“No, ma’am,” Olivia responded quickly, wiggling in her lap just a bit to put her ass on display. Finally Casey cracked a small smile, flipping up the plaid material and swiftly hooking two fingers into the red lacy scrap serving for underwear around Olivia’s hips, leaving the panties tangled around her knees.

All the air gushed out of Liv’s lungs as she felt cool air hit her bottom, and she turned her head quickly, brown hair curling to frame her flushed face, one hand propped against Casey’s knee. “What are you doing?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, legs tensing together in an effort to hide her reaction to the discipline.

“What you always wanted me to, Olivia. Or am I mistaken about your intentions? Usually naughty children don’t ask for repeat punishments,” she murmured, arching a brow and sitting back, daring Olivia to say otherwise.
Part Two

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:49:12Z

17. Prostitute/Client
Part 2/2

Judge Donnelly glanced down at her papers. “Casey, call your next witness,” she said casually, clasping her hands in front of her and looking back up slowly.

“The prosecution calls Olivia Benson to the stand.” Ten seconds later, Liv sashayed up the aisle, the rat-bastard of a defendant freaked out and Liz saw Casey hide her ‘I’ve won another case’ smile.

Within about ten questions, Casey simultaneously cut down the rapist’s alibi (because, duh, Liv saw him across the street at the same time his ‘girlfriend’ had been with him across town), gave him means (she’d seen him brandish a gun), motive (she’d also heard a very loud altercation), and opportunity (because a client had come in at the same time as the bastard had gone in, and they’d left at the same time too, giving him a good hour and a half). Casey smiled broadly as Olivia finished her testimony, eyes twinkling with that emotion that made Liv’s stomach flip.

The sleaze defense attorney rose. “Redirect, your honor?” Liz nodded, already thoroughly impressed by the articulate and composed witness testimony.

“Is it true that you are a hooker?”

Well, shit, no beating around the bush there! Casey shot out of her seat, chair screeching with the quickness of it, pain forgotten as she saw a flash of shame in Liv’s eyes before it was hidden by a practiced defiance. “Judge, please--”

“If you aren’t objecting then sit down, Ms. Novak. Mr. Granger, kindly reword your question, I don’t appreciate that sort of language in my court room.”

“Of course, your honor. Ms. Benson, isn’t it true that you are a prostitute?”

Olivia shifted in her seat, staring past the man’s shoulder at Casey, a grim smile plastered on her face. “It’s true,” she said coolly, trying to convey to a fuming Casey that she could handle this. (Though the ADA’s fury was totally adorable. Wait, what the fuck? Adorable?!)

“Ms. Benson?” Shit, she had zoned out thinking how beautiful Casey looked all pissed off like that…

“I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”

“Sorry to bore you, Ms. Benson. Perhaps I’ll dumb it down so as not to go over your head.” Liv’s fingers clenched into a fist as she arched an eyebrow, brown hues glowing with annoyance (which, of course, was actually shielding hurt).

Casey winced as she shot up this time, the back of her chair hitting the wall behind her. “Your honor!” Liz was already on it.

“Mr. Granger, one more comment like that and you’ll be in contempt.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, Olivia smirking briefly at the recent memory of those words. Granger proceeded to ‘tear down’ Liv on a character basis, attacking her lifestyle (thank God she was clean), her job, all that she was. Olivia took the abuse bravely, Casey objecting every chance she could and Liz intervening on the pro’s behalf as much as she could without appearing biased. Secretly the judge had already sentenced the serial rapist to the max, and from the looks on the jurors’ faces, they had too.

“Thank you, Ms. Benson, you may step down.” Liv did so, glaring daggers at the defense and stalking elegantly by with her chin held high. Casey had almost growled (quite possessively) throughout the cross several times, and gave Liv an apologetic smile as she passed. If she hadn’t been determined to win before, she sure as hell was now! (Casey chose not to ponder why the broken look hidden in Liv’s face haunted her so much, and only used the pang of… (certainly NOT-love) to fuel her prosecution.)

-

Casey arched a brow at the package in Olivia’s hand as she exited the courtroom. “You could’ve taken off hours ago, what’re you still hanging around here for?”

Liv scoffed, dressed in a shorter black skirt and a tighter shirt but the same trench, her long legs muscular and beautiful as she rose easily to her feet. “You flatter yourself, Novak. I went home and got some sleep. You might want to do the same,” she added, her tone insinuating at things that made Casey shiver. Clearing her throat to gather herself, Casey turned, starting to exit the building.

“You still have court tomorrow, Ms. Benson, same time as today.” Olivia fell in step with the attorney, stride matched as the brown sack was shoved rather unceremoniously into Casey’s chest.

“And you still have a debt to repay tonight, Ms. Novak, same time as yesterday,” she hissed, speeding her walk enough to outpace the redhead down the courthouse steps. This time those hips swayed because Casey was watching.

-

That night found Casey entering that same building, a stronger ribbon tied around her neck this time, the satin one from before nearly ripped. Olivia pointed the way, Casey walking obediently forward, her hair up again in a messy bun and her back entirely exposed by a dark green halter, the material pooling around her hips and flapping loosely over her breasts, the pale globes of flesh just barely covered by the thin cotton. Liv purred appreciatively as she saw Casey’s butt held tight in the grips of the leather pants she’d given, the laces up the sides spread far enough apart to give a full view of the outside of each leg - all the way up to where they tied just below her hip, proving that she’d obeyed the order not to wear underwear tonight.

When they entered the bedroom, Olivia pushed Casey between the shoulder blades, knocking the redhead face-first onto the bed, the ADA closing her eyes against the searing imprint Liv’s hand had left on her back. Breathing deeply, she relaxed into the plush comforter, surprised to find no heavy smell of sex in the sheets.

“You know,” Olivia said, leaning against the door to the bureau, “I don’t think you ever paid for that attitude of yours yesterday.” Casey’s head popped up a little bit, and she started to reply, hesitantly.

“But, ma’am, you spanked me yesterday, about fifty strokes, I think, ma’am.”

“Good girl, you kept count! Remind me to make you do it out loud, tonight,” she said approvingly, turning and arching her back purposely as she leaned into the wardrobe, knowing Casey’s eyes were raking over her scantily clad figure. She could just feel those intense jade hues sliding up from her black stilettos, along her smooth legs up to the edge of her latex dress that just barely cupped her ass. The purple material hugged to every sinful curve along her hips and stomach, curving tightly around her breasts and squeezing them together, her hair falling over the edge of that studded, black leather collar encircling her neck and just brushing the short sleeves of the dress.

She straightened with a riding crop dangling off of one finger, a grin lighting Liv’s face at the way Casey’s eyes went wide. She was so cute when she was almost afraid.

“Olivia, ma’am, I’m sorry for my attitude yesterday, please--”

“Ohhh, no, no begging now! I don’t want it-- yet. Face down, get that ass up, there you go,” she instructed, tickling at the back of Casey’s thighs as she crawled up further onto the bed. A hand on her hip, Liv watched, biting her bottom lip as the attorney positioned herself perfectly, her ass just at the edge of the bed. Liv stepped up to the high mattress, her hips bumping into Casey’s ass, a hand gripping one of the back pockets for leverage.

Thwack!

“Owww… o-one,” Casey sniffled, tears springing almost immediately to her eyes as a bright red mark appeared along her spine.

“It gets worse, Novak. Think you can handle it, or are you gonna wimp out on me?” Liv tested her again, the hits growing in strength, but still Casey counted, shaking her head.

“No, ma’am, please,” Casey started.

“Aww, come on, baby, I love it when you ask for more! Don’t tell me to stop,” she said, striping Casey’s back effortlessly, flicks of her wrist leaving Casey arching against the bed and whimpering for Liv to stop. “You didn’t tell that bastard lawyer to stop, did you?”

“I tried!”

“Attitude again! Do you ever learn?” Smack, smack!

“Ow, ow, mmpf,” she mumbled, pressing her face into the downy sheets and muffling her cries until she could lift her head, “Ten.”

“I haven’t heard any apologies, ADA Novak.”

“I’m sorry!” she cried, adding a belated, “eleven.”

Liv tilted her head, seeing the way Casey’s muscles quivered with tension as she started criss-crossing the marks, grinding her hips forward into Casey’s ass, the redhead involuntarily thrusting back against the pressure with a moan. “Oh, you like that, do you? Do you like what I do to you?”

Casey nodded against her wishes, feeling tears starting to stream down her cheeks for more than one reason.

“Yes, yes, I do, ma’am,” she said, shuddering with the effort of containing her sobs. Tears leaked past her tightly closed eyes and she gritted her teeth so hard her head started to hurt.

“You like it!” Pow! “You like it, and so does everyone else that comes to see me!” Smack! She was starting up her lecture-while-I-smack-that-ass routine, except in this case it was Casey’s pale, sweet back getting whipped. “And still that bastard lawyer gets to tear me down!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Casey sobbed finally, her throat raw with unshed tears finally escaping her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him, you didn’t deserve that, no one does. I deserve this because he tried to crucify you today, because of me, I’m so sorry, Olivia. God, I’m so sorry…” she said, head dropping in defeat again, and the anger that had tried to bubble up in the pro’s chest immediately deflated. She bit her bottom lip, pressing her hips forward more sensually this time, the low groan Casey let out signaling something a little more than just pain.

“Something wrong, lover?” Olivia breathed, the crop turning Casey’s head as she puffed, cheeks red with embarrassment, arousal and pain. Casey hesitated a moment too long, another two sharp whacks with the crop leaving a stinging ‘X’ on her right shoulder. Hissing and clenching her teeth, her back arched away from the contact a bit, her fingers grabbing fistfuls of the crimson sheets.

“Yes, mistress, being wet is uncomfortable in leather pants,” she breathed, eyes fluttering closed as she felt the threshold between pain and pleasure being crossed again, this time with Liv trailing the leather loop over the new welts appearing on Casey’s muscular back. Olivia’s jaw dropped at the word ‘mistress’. She’d never made anyone call her that before, but she certainly would now, the way those syllables just rolled off of Casey’s tongue sent jolts of fire to the blaze in her belly. Actually, if she was honest with herself (which, of course, she wasn’t), she’d admit that the only throaty voice she ever wanted to hear desperately call her mistress was Casey’s hoarse whisper.

“Ohh, so you enjoyed that, did you?”

“Yes, mistress, I enjoyed it. I’m sorry for my attitude and I’m sorry for letting Lionel The Asshole Defense Attorney assassinate your character today, Olivia,” she said, hanging her head, her fingers finally uncurling. “You’re one of the bravest, strongest women I’ve ever met and no one should ever, *ever* question that.”

Okay, was Casey trying to melt Olivia’s heart? Because she had to close her eyes against those words, to try and block them out while they were already weaving themselves into her heart, turning her off to every fat stock broker who’d come in to be whipped like a ‘bad boy’, every rich prima donna who wanted to ‘try out’ a pro domme, every last customer that’d always meant nothing. It was Liv’s turn to swallow hard this time, and she backed off of Casey, her fingers following the longest welt down the center of the redhead’s back gently, her spine flexing against the touch.

“Close your eyes, Casey. You’ve been a good girl, you deserve a reward.”

Casey’s eyes almost shot open at that but she slowly lowered herself to the bed entirely, crawling until the length of her body lay across the scarlet quilt, finally catching her breathing and wiping her cheeks free of the tears that had fallen. “Okay, ma’am.”

Olivia smiled a little, the bed dipping under her weight when she returned. She placed her hands on Casey’s hips, lifting her ass into the air like before so that she could unlace the leather pants, peeling away the material to reveal that the lawyer was indeed dripping. Olivia purred, sliding two fingers up the length of Casey’s slit, the sensation setting off an explosion of fire and a deep moan for the redhead, who quivered and nearly fell back down to the bed.

“May I open my eyes, ma’am?”

“No. And please, Casey. Call me mistress, like you did before, please?”

Licking her lips at the thinly veiled desire in Liv’s throaty request, she nodded. “Yes, mistress. Please, touch me again.”

“Oh, I will, sweetheart, that’s not even the beginning of your reward.” And she slowly pushed one finger inside Casey’s hot center, groaning herself at the ease with which her digit disappeared. Casey’s breath caught in her throat and she began to pant as Liv added two more fingers, slowly pushing in and out. Her other hand stroked Casey’s bruised back, tracing over the pattern of red lines marring the once-flawless, pale skin.

“Ohmm, God, yes, please, mistress, more!”

Liv’s fingernails dug into the small of Casey’s back as she thrust a little harder, wiggling her fingers as she pressed them in as far as they would go, smiling at the way Casey’s eyes closed in ecstasy and twisted in heightened pleasure. “You ready, baby?”

“R-ready f-for wh-OHH- what?” she panted, lashes fluttering as she tried to catch her breath. Suddenly she felt a large presence filling her to the brim, and she moaned loudly as she felt Liv’s hips finally meet the back of her thighs. “GOD, Olivia! It’s h-huge!”

Liv grinned, both hands smoothing down Casey’s back as she wiggled her hips, allowing Casey to get used to the girth of the dildo of her strap-on. Leaning down, she slid her hands inside of the loose green shirt, each hand palming the redhead’s breasts and kneading. “I know, honey, but you feel so good, Casey,” she purred, beginning to slide in and out of Casey’s hot center, the most erotic little noises escaping Casey’s parted lips as she did that.

One hand remained on the attorney’s breast, pinching and pulling gently at one hardened nipple, the other finding it’s way between Casey’s legs to mimic the ministrations on the redhead’s clit.

“Oh, oh fuck, Olivia, you feel s-so --ohmygodddd,” she moaned, her muscles tensing as she started to climb toward her climax. Liv watched with an experienced eye, grinning bigger as she freed a hand to dip her fingers into a small jar of lube on the nightstand.

“You’ve been such a good girl, Casey.”

“T-thank you, mistress,” Casey whispered between groans and sighs, each sound inflating Liv’s ego and fueling her fire until she could hardly bear it. Liv touched a fingertip to the crack of Casey’s ass as her thrusts into her pussy slowed. “Liv what are you-- holy shit!”

Without much further ado Liv had pushed past Casey’s hesitation and plunged a finger up to the knuckle into her ass, immediately starting up a slow, deeply thrusting rhythm that went opposite to the ones her hips were driving into Casey’s dripping pussy. “Do you like that, baby? You want me to do it harder?”

“Ohhhhh, YES, please, mistress, pleasepleaseplea-ohhhhhohOH!” Casey went limp, feeling her walls contract around the slippery dildo still sliding inside of her. “Oh my god, fuck me, Liv, fuck me that was… was.. FUCK!”

While Casey orgasmed for the first time, Liv hadn’t been idle. She had worked up to three fingers in Casey’s ass, and pulled the slick strap-on out of her pussy, just to plunge it as gently but as firmly as she could just as her fingers slid away, the redhead shaking with adrenaline and the sensation overload as she felt her body spiraling back toward orgasm within a minute.

“Mistress, please-oh-oh-oh god, please!” Olivia now maintained a smooth rhythm, her hips thrusting forward forcefully and nearly slamming into Casey’s ass, a hand slapping that round, wonderful ass every now and again, moans and groans escaping both women by now. Casey came a second time when Liv gripped both her breasts tightly, one in each hand and her palms grinding against her hard nipples. A third time when Liv bit into her neck. A fourth time when long fingers toyed along her still wet pussy.

Liv had never had someone more eager for this, and she’d never felt as turned on as this, as she was listening to every sound fly out of Casey’s mouth. Her hands roved over every inch of skin she could reach, sliding over smooth and marked skin alike, her tongue circling every hickey she’d left, lips caressing every crop mark on that back.

(If she was going to fall, she was going to fall deep, hard and fast, and enjoy the one night she could give. Of course, she was still in denial about the whole, ‘I’m-head-over-fucking-heels-in-LOVE-with-her’ thing.)

When Casey screamed her release for a fifth time because of two fingers driving into her molten center and another two pulling sharply on her clit, she collapsed, chest heaving, body covered in a sheen of sweat. Pulling away slowly, Olivia smiled, rolling onto her back in the pillows and closing her eyes, head lolling back and the strap on still adorning her hips, dildo standing at obscene attention.

The ADA swallowed hard, finally gathering her wits and rolling to her back, propped up by her elbows, the halter still covering the front of her torso, leather pants tangled around her knees. Kicking them off slowly, she bit her bottom lip, seeing that Liv was still rather riled up. Green eyes went wide when she realized Olivia hadn’t had one release yet. Hesitantly she crawled up next to Liv’s side, taking in a breath for courage before starting to swiftly undo the harness for the strap on. Still caught in her ‘fucked-her-brains-out’ domme haze, Liv’s eyes opened lazily as she felt fingers sliding around her pelvis.

“What’re you doing?”

“I said it’d be my turn tonight, didn’t I?” The harness and strap-on were discarded now, pushed off of the side of the bed as Casey’s fingers lay gently on Olivia’s knees, sliding up the bare thighs much too sensually for Liv’s liking.

“S-stop, wh-what-- Casey--”

“Shhh, please, mistress. It’s your turn to feel just a little bit of what you’ve given me,” Casey murmured, lips descending to a sensitive inner thigh and kissing, teeth nipping lightly the next time she tried to protest. “Stop,” Casey said in her courtroom voice, green eyes flicking up past the purple latex gathered at Liv’s waist. She sat up and pulled Olivia with her, wrapping her arms around the older brunette as she sighed heavily.

“Let me do this for you, please. You deserve it.” Deft fingers unzipped the dress and peeled it off of her with what seemed to be a practiced ease. Liv grabbed the sheets and curled in them, dropping her head.

“No, d-don’t.”

Casey ran a hand through the beautiful auburn locks, pulling them away from Liv’s darkened brown eyes, a kiss laid to her temple, her cheek, then her ear. “You want it. You want me? You got me. Shut up and lay down,” Casey commanded, Olivia shocked by the tone.

“You think just because I’m not used to affection you can just take the domme attitude with me?” Liv asked incredulously, pulling back sharply from Casey’s embrace, thinking she’d finally found the anger to push the attractive attorney away when she saw the fire blazing in those green eyes and felt a mouth latching onto one pert nipple. “OH, God!”

Olivia fell back into the sheets, back arching into Casey’s hot mouth as her tongue slid over a dark nipple, biting and tugging and making sounds escape the pro’s mouth that she didn’t even know she could make.

“N-n-no, wait, Casey, please,” Liv said, fingers curling in Casey’s hair with the intent to pull her away but her hands only locking the redhead in place on her breast instead, a cascade of moans rolling past Liv’s lips. The attorney ground her body down against the brunette’s, her slick skin sliding over tanned flesh until goose bumps rose, Casey growling and nipping her way to Liv’s other nipple.

“I already doubled your fun, Benson,” she purred, breaking Liv’s grasp and holding those wrists down on the bed, straddling Olivia’s stomach, her wetness seeping onto the tawny, taut abs. The pro moaned again, closing her eyes and trying to ignore the feeling of her arousal reaching new heights. Casey’s fingers trailed up her arms, nails offering a feather light touch from her palms to her shoulders, those slim fingers sliding into her mussed brown locks and grabbing hold.

Liv gasped as the ADA squeezed two tight handfuls of hair, pulling up as she dove down. Olivia’s hands wrapped around Casey’s torso, forearms pressing against the dark red ridges on the younger woman’s back, arching her into the kiss they both knew was coming.

Mouth met mouth hotly, two tongues dueling and vying for dominance over the other. Olivia hastily stripped Casey out of the halter, teeth tugging almost viciously on a bottom lip. Casey grinned into the kiss, sucking Liv’s tongue into her mouth hard after that. Olivia hadn’t kissed a lover-- client-- ah, fuck it-- *anyone* like this in a long time, losing her hands in that fiery mane of hair, sitting up and feeling her chest press pleasantly into Casey’s rock hard nipples rasping against each other. Liv pulled back from the kiss, tossing her head back as Casey’s fingernails scored her back, scraping down roughly.

“God, yes! Casey, ohhhhh, Casey, please!”

“Beg me, beg me, Olivia,” Casey growled, her palm sliding between them and rubbing against Liv’s wetness, a gasp escaping both of them at the scale of Liv’s arousal, one finger circling around her entrance teasingly, little whimpers and --fucking *mewling!* falling out of Liv’s mouth, her lips parted as she panted for breath.

“Ohhohoh, please! Please, Casey, fuck me!”

“Yes!” And Casey plunged two fingers deep into Olivia’s pussy, stroking against the velvety walls and driving as deep as she could reach, her tempo slow and rolling, Liv arching into the touch with wild abandon, her throat exposed and bitten thoroughly, Casey’s tongue sliding against her fluttering pulse point and claiming the olive skin. A pale hand slithered down the pro’s trim body, slipping into the same hot place and grasping Olivia’s clit as Casey’s lips descended on Liv’s once more.

“Time to double your pleasure,” she murmured, sending Liv spiraling over the edge as she pinched hard and thrust sharply, smiling as she watched the brunette fall back from their kiss into the pillows, chest heaving and her body breaking out in a sweat.

Panting, Liv covered her face with her hands, her entire body shaking uncontrollably while the lights left her eyes. “Oh my God,” she mumbled, unable to stop the adrenaline rushing through every nerve. She suddenly felt Casey’s lips caressing her collarbone, kissing their way over her chest leisurely, and she almost sobbed. “Oh my God, she muttered, voice breaking halfway through the repetition. Casey’s brows furrowed and she slid to one side, pulling away Liv’s hands to see the brown eyes filled with tears.

“Liv, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry! When you said stop I thought--” but she was cut off by a harsh, sad laugh.

“It’s not that, honey,” Liv said, waving a hand before putting it to her forehead, running those fingers through her hair as she slid under the sheets slowly, suddenly feeling the vulnerability of being naked in this amazing woman’s presence. “Just… go. I’ll be in court tomorrow. And if it goes past a third day, don’t worry about coming back.”

“What?” Green eyes filled with confusion as Liv turned her back, rolling to one side and hastily wiping at her eyes to rid herself of the tears pricking there.

“Your debt has been paid. I need to--” Liv choked on the words. “I… I’m through with you, Casey Novak. I’ll show up and testify but I need to be rid of you.”

Casey started to reach a hand to Liv’s shoulder and hesitated halfway, arm stretched but fingers not quite touching that tanned skin. She sat back, legs tangling in the crimson comforter. “So that’s it then?”

“Yes, didn’t you just hear--”

“You think you can just force me into being your plaything, then when I finally start to get through to you, toss me to the curb? Well I’m here to tell you, Olivia Benson, that I’m not just some client that you fuck and throw out the door. I’m the kind of person someone like you deserves, not that rat of a pimp you call Jimmy, or any of the scum that walks through that door.” She slipped out of the bed, grabbing her underwear from last night (conveniently folded with her other clothes, and apparently freshly washed. She smirked, knowing that it was just one more sign that Liv cared more than she would admit.) and slipped it on, along with the halter, re-doing her hair and pulling it into a low pony this time. “I took it, I liked it, and honestly I want more. But if you’re too chicken to do something about it when this could have been the most amazing thing in either of our lives, then fine. Wimp out. I can certainly afford to find a better domme than one who’ll just shy away from a challenge.”

Olivia *knew* it was reverse psychology, but she couldn‘t stop herself from rising to the bait. Of course that struck a nerve. “How dare you? You want to run that by me again? Because that nearly sounded like an ultimatum, Novak, and you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. I’m not afraid of you and I sure as hell can break your ass,” she nearly snarled, whipping around to find Casey just an inch from her, lips hovering a breath from hers.

Fuck, the woman was a silent motherfucker when she wanted to be! Frozen in place, Liv’s eyes flicked from those swollen red lips up to those intense jade hues, two heartbeats, three passing between them in silence.

“Then why push me away, Olivia? Tell me why you really want me gone and I’ll leave.”

“You can’t just--fucking, I can’t lo-- Shit!” Liv sputtered, all in one breath, unable to move away but unable to close the distance to Casey’s lips either. She licked the corner of her open mouth, stuttering for something better.

“Tell. Me. Now.” The tone left no room for argument.

“I can’t keep hooking when I love someone, alright?!” Olivia exclaimed, finally breaking out of Casey’s spell and pulling the covers up around her shoulders for comfort. “I can’t keep living like I’m living when you’re the only one I want.”

Breathing hard and feeling her body surge with the impulse to attack those pouty red lips again, Casey quivered, closing her eyes when the words sunk in. It wasn’t quite what she expected but God, was it what she wanted to hear. True to her word, however, she backed off of the bed, bending down to retrieve her pants. Liv glanced up, hot tears brimming in her eyes again as she tried to fight back the feelings that were bubbling over.

“Where’re you going?” she asked, voice shaky and unstable with unshed tears.

“You told me the truth and asked me to leave. I think the least I can do is honor my word when I’ve caused you so much pain,” Casey said, hissing as she straightened. With her back to the bed, Liv’s eyes widened, her own emotional pain forgotten as she saw the brutal marks lacing Casey’s back, the red lines crossing purple and overlapping scarlet. Liv leapt out of bed, catching the attorney before she started to don the leather. Hands first lit on slender hips, the redhead pausing, turning her head to the side just a bit. Tanned fingers found their way to elegant shoulders and slid down from there, stroking over the abused skin and muscle until the lawyer shuddered under the touch.

Olivia dropped her head, lips hovering over a mark her teeth had made earlier. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want-- I… please, Casey, I-I can’t just… just say tha-- but… I want y-you to,” she mumbled, closing her eyes at the incoherent spiel she barely understood herself. Casey spoke softly over her shoulder, hardly daring to look back to see if Liv was really there, keeping her from walking out the door.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” Olivia asked, one finger following the lines on the ADA’s back, admiring with a faded pride the way the pale skin quivered under her touch.

“You love me.” It wasn’t a question, and Olivia sighed, the weariness of a broken life audible in the sound.

“Yes, Casey. I love you. I think I did from the moment you waltzed in that door, looking sharp as hell in that all black suit.”

“Then stop. Don’t live like this if you can’t.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” she asked, a slight desperation and a more familiar hopeless resignation ringing in the question. “All I’m good at is whoring myself out to every debaucherous, naughty girl or boy that needs a good whipping.”

“Olivia, you are well read and beautiful and intelligent and so many wonderful things!” Casey exclaimed, kissing the brunette passionately after she spun around. “I know this isn’t what you’re meant to be and so do you!” The sparkling hope and enthusiasm in Casey’s eyes made Liv smile.

“You’re still young, Casey. And for someone who deals in such twisted crime, you’re still optimistic, if a bit naïve.” Casey smiled back as Liv tucked a lock of her red-gold hair behind her ear.

“Still my first year.”

“Of course.” And Liv’s heart broke when Casey’s hands cupped her cheeks, another sweet kiss transferred from pink to berry lips.

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Novak. Cliché, but appropriate. I don’t know how to be anything than what I already am.”

“Do you call everyone you love by their last names?” Casey inquired, draping her arms around Liv’s shoulders while the brunette’s hands fell to her hips.

“No, sweetheart. You’re special.”

“Then I’ll take care of you--”

“And what, leave me cooped up in your apartment everyday while you nail perps to the wall? I’m sorry, Casey,” Liv said softly, slowly detaching herself from the embrace. “But you’ve got to understand when I say I can’t ever be with you again. I might recover from this one night,” she murmured, helping Casey into the provocative slacks. “And I will never forget it,” she added, unable to keep her hands from roving over her handiwork, another shiver running through the lawyer from head to toe. “But you’re killin’ me, honey.”

“What did you think of the DaVinci Code?”

“The fuck?”

“Just answer me.”

“Um,” Liv said, scratching her neck absently. “The book was a good read, though the plot was so convoluted after the first few twists that the final one wasn’t as convincing as it could have been. The prose itself occasionally felt a little contrived, but taken as a whole it’s a worthy piece of literature. It deserves at least 75% of the acclaim it receives. Why?”

“Because you’re a book critic,” Casey declared, eyes dancing excitedly.

“…the fuck?” Because of course it was cuter the second time around with a little eyebrow arch and facial expression to match.

“Did you even hear how articulate that critique was? Olivia, that’s better than half the writers at Entertainment Weekly. You could get an online job, or just freelance it--”

“And I suppose you have another genius plan for getting rid of Jimmy and his band of rat-bastardly thugs?”

“Yeah. I’ll lock their asses up, all of them. You and anyone else he pimps testify, I call in a favor and he’ll be drowning in charges before he’s even arrested. Friends too, I’ve got cops that like me.” Olivia laughed, falling back onto the bad, one hand over her face. “I take back what I said about being lucky.”

“What?” Casey asked, disrobing again and straddling Liv as the older woman sat up among the mess of pillows.

“Only my crap luck could send me such a fucking stubborn, brilliant, gorgeous ADA to send my life for such a goddamn loop.”

Fingers trailed absently over the marks on Casey’s back for the nth time, a tremble proving the same effect. “I guess I’ll be sitting rather stiffly tomorrow,” the redhead murmured, laying kisses over Liv’s face as a hand toyed with those russet locks, twisting them around a finger. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” Olivia murmured, slowly lying back on her bed, looking up at a glowing Casey Novak, who smiled down at her.

“S’okay. I’m going to go start the paperwork for all of this shit. I promised that you’d be safe. Now I promise that we’ll be fine, no matter what I have to do to ensure it.” She made as if to get off, but Liv caught her hand, holding tightly.

“Casey?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t… don’t leave. Stay… please.”

“If you mean forever,” she whispered, leaning down to steal a kiss, “then don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it. Leaving, that is. I’m going to put this first rat-bastard away, then your rat-bastard, and then all of his little friends,” little pecking kisses offered between words.

“Then everything is going to magically work out? I suddenly stop being a prostitute, get my dream job doing what I have a natural talent for and we live happily ever after?”

“Yes. Because I love you. And I say we’ll make it. I’m your last client, as far as you’re concerned,” Casey growled, a giggle ruining the effect as Liv flipped them over. “And the customer is always right.”
</div>

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:46:14Z

19. Prostitute/Client
Part 1/2

Casey tapped on the glass to the interview room lightly, crossing her arms as the Detectives filed out a moment later.

“Anything, Casey?”

“I don’t know what else to do, John. She’s obviously not afraid of Elliot and she isn’t a druggie like some of them so Fin can’t get anywhere with her either. I don’t have any legal recourse to force her to testify, because she has the right not to.”

“What?” Elliot asked, rolling up his sleeves, obviously frustrated that his ‘I’m-moody-and-intimidating-so-you-should-do-what-I-say’ act wasn’t working. “The perp has the right -even though the bastard shouldn’t- to call out people in court.” Casey dropped her arms and straightened her striking Versace suit, still gazing into interrogation.

“But she isn’t his accuser, El. Her testimony would attribute motive, means and opportunity, as well as shoot his alibi to hell, but I can‘t force her,” she sighed. Rubbing a hand over her face, the ADA leaned against the one-way window, narrowing her eyes at the woman with her four inch sparkly blue stilettos kicked up on the metal table.

Cragen strolled up, the sour expressions on his kids’ faces telling him enough. “One Police Plaza wants us to move on this. High profile cases need to get in and out of court with as little interim as possible, Casey. Do whatever you need to win it, ‘cause this bastard needs to go down.”

Her brows furrowed lightly, and she ran a hand through her hair. She muttered something to herself before straightening and turning to the cops. “If you’ll leave us alone, I think I can convince her. But shut off the tapes, close the blinds and I’ll ask you to keep out of the observation room.”

She’d never asked for anything like this before, but they all recognized the determined set of her chin. Whatever Novak was up to, not only would it work, but it would hold up in court. They didn’t care how (and let he who has not ‘persuaded’ someone in interrogation cast the first stone) and so filed out, keeping other cops out to give them that conviction.

The redhead entered the room, heels clicking lightly on the floor.

The woman didn’t even look up from filing her nails. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, Detectives, nothin’ you can say is gonna convince me otherwise.”

“Well I guess it’s good I’m not a Detective, then,” Casey said calmly, bumping the door shut with a hip as the heels slowly came off of the table. Smoky brown eyes looked Casey up and down behind heavily mascara’d eyelashes and glittery navy eye shadow, a smirk curling luscious red lips. “What?” the lawyer asked, raising an eyebrow similar to the olive-skinned woman’s, shrugging her shoulders and gripping the handle to her briefcase with both hands, looking quite formidable in a perfectly tailored black suit.

“Well,” the woman said, leaning back in her chair, her short sleeved jacket falling open to reveal that the figure-hugging blue dress was strapless, “a few things. One, I didn’t know public defenders were paid so well that they could afford--” she narrowed her eyes a fraction, “Versace. Two, I didn’t know anyone working for the state could be that damn hot. Three, I didn’t think I was lucky.”

Casey’s mouth hinted at a smile as she set down the leather carrier. “Lucky?” Eyebrows rose accordingly as well. (She had hidden her blush by turning to the mirror until she felt in control of her cheeks again, because she wasn’t exactly used to blatant flattery.)

“Sure,” she said, nail file flicked back out to resume grooming. “Way my life has gone? Shit, sometimes to me luck doesn’t even exist. I’ve had the shittiest night of my life spent -not working, Jimmy’s gonna be real happy about that one, thanks very much- with cops who can’t get it through their thick skulls that I’m not about to just lay my life out on the line--”

“But you wouldn’t be in da--”

“No one asked you to interrupt, Counselor,” she continued icily, ignoring the angry flash of Casey’s eyes. “And your cops already drilled it to me that I’d be safe, that I’d get protection. Who do they think they’re kidding?” she asked rhetorically, throwing the file down on the table with a bitter scoff. She crossed her arms, meeting the incensed green hues framed by fiery locks, her scowl momentarily abated in the sight of such frustrated beauty.

“What cop is going to diligently follow orders to patrol Harlem in the middle of the night to protect a prostitute, huh?”

“Any cop that doesn’t want a pissed off ADA breathing down them and their boss’s necks, that’s who,” Casey said, pulling up a chair and sitting on the same side of the table, their knees almost touching as the redhead leaned in with her usual intensity. “I promise you that you will be safe. Your testimony is vital to my case, Miss Benson--”

“Ugh, call me Olivia, sweetheart,” she said with a mildly disgusted face and a wave of the hand. “Liv, actually,” she said, eyes drifting back down to Casey’s fair thigh (which was exposed by the modest slit in her suit’s skirt) where she had previously been distracted.

“Olivia, I promise that my cops will patrol and keep you safe, we’ll drop all the hooking charges in exchange for your testimony,” but she trailed off at Liv’s low laugh and shaking of head, the brown tresses shaking into Olivia’s eyes.

“You just don’t get it, Novak. I won’t testify, and nothing you do is going to convince me,” she said, eyes wandering to the V-neck of Casey’s blouse as she said it. Both women realized where the pro’s eyes had landed at about the same time and Liv averted her eyes, picking at her necklace absently while Casey dropped her head, blushing for a second time by trying to discover a way to use the apparent attraction to her advantage. Swallowing hard, the lawyer looked up, scooting that bit forward so her bare knee touched bare knee. Olivia blinked at the motion, a hand slowly sliding from her lap across her thigh, fingertips gingerly stroking Casey’s knee while her eyes rose slowly over that body with a burning gaze that set Casey on fire. The attorney had to gulp for another breath of air as the first lungful whooshed out of her chest at the intensity of tingling shooting like sparks up her thigh.

“Are you tryin’ to seduce me, Counselor?” Liv drawled, fingers sliding gradually further up that toned leg, Casey shifting in her chair but not moving away, her hand clenching into a first on the tabletop.

“I am trying to convince you that your testimony is worth it,” she said meaningfully, voice dropping into a hoarse whisper as Liv pushed her hand higher. “Liv, I need you to help me to put this guy away. If you want… me, then so be it.”

“I like to play, Casey,” she said, standing and lifting the redhead with the slightest pressure under her chin. A grin flit across Olivia’s berry lips and she suddenly slapped Casey across the face as hard as she could. The attorney hissed at the unexpected blow, her hair flying as her head turned sharply with the smack. “But I play rough,” Liv added in a gravelly voice, licking the exposed bit of reddened cheek. Inhaling slowly, Casey cracked her neck before squaring her shoulders, staring into Liv’s thoroughly surprised face.

“I can handle it,” she responded, proud that her voice didn’t waver as much as her heartbeat was currently going. “To put this bastard away, I need you. If all you want is to use me as a plaything, then fine. I can take a beating. I only ask not the face because it’s a bit hard to hide the bruises on my cheeks. Now that we’ve settled the terms, do you give your word that you’ll show?”

Olivia marveled at this younger woman’s strength, attitude and determination. “What good is my word to you?”

“While all of this may be off the record, as soon as I tell Manhattan SVU that this case is taken care of the instant you’re sworn in on that stand, nothing will keep them from finding you if you try and skip out on me.”

“Gorgeous and clever,” Liv mused, a hand tucking those straight red-gold tresses behind one ear, surprising both the ADA and herself with the tender motion. “I’m telling you, love, I’ve never been this lucky in my life. Alright. You have Olivia Benson’s word. Where and when do I receive my… compensation?”

Casey sputtered at that. “Uh, erm-- I-I hadn’t thought of that-- It has to be secret, if anyone sees or hears anything about this, the judge will declare a mistrial. As much as I’m sunk without you I can’t risk losing a serial rapist to double jeopardy.”

“Calm down, baby, I’ll figure it out,” Liv cooed, Casey’s mouth closing slowly as her red cheek was soothed by satin-soft lips, breaths on her ear making her shiver. Pulling away, Casey cleared her throat, blushing furiously and mad that she’d seemingly lost all control of the situation. She was agreeing to get her ass kicked by a professional working-girl for some testimony? She was starting to question her morals (and motives for suggesting such a ludicrous deal), a hand running through her hair when a nagging voice reminded her that she had initiated this. Why else would you clear out cops before persuading a pro? Somehow, this wasn’t exactly what Case had had in mind when she’d first eyed Liv through the one-way.

Suddenly Olivia grinned. “Alright, Novak. I’ve got a way to let us rendezvous without much trouble-- on my turf.”

Casey arched a brow at this sudden turnabout, her eyes dubious but also wary at the way Liv was suddenly acting. “Yeah?”

Liv nodded, crossing both her arms and her legs, the latter motion causing the provocative slit in her dress to fall open, the fabric parting swiftly over a smooth, tanned thigh. Casey licked her lips, unable to hide her lust, eyes drinking in the tantalizing slice of skin appreciatively. “Yep. And you’re gonna need to look the part.”

“Huh?”

“Somehow I expected something a little more articulate from a lawyer,” Liv chuckled. Standing up, she slipped a finger past the hem of the dark skirt along the tucked in material of her black blouse, pulling so sharply that Casey gasped as she stumbled into the pro’s hard, toned body. That other hand rested on her hip to steady the agape ADA as husky instructions were whispered into her ear.

“And don’t be late, baby,” Olivia said, grabbing her sequined purse and walking out, hips swaying like she knew Casey was watching.

-

A slim figure got out of a cab on 108th, paying the cabbie his due before moving into the shadows. Heels clicked hollowly on the concrete, blending in with the city’s night sounds. The dark shape went quickly, slinking along for nearly two blocks before mounting the steps to a dimly lit stoop, knocking lightly.

“Ah, Counselor, right on time,” she said brightly, the door swinging open.

“I appreciate punctuality, as I’m sure you do in your appointed clients.”

Olivia bowed her head slightly in agreement, a smile curling her pained lips as she gestured Casey inside. “True. May I take your coat?”

“My, a polite hostess. I’d never have known, Benson,” Casey mused, lips curled in a thin smile of her own as she shrugged her trench off into Liv’s waiting hands, the brunette’s eyes drinking in the unveiled sight with a twinkle. Brown eyes started at the bottom and slowly traveled up, a smile growing at what clothed the ADA.

Casey stood in black fishnets covered by similarly black thigh high boots clinging to every curve of her legs, lacy red boy-cut panties easily visible through the stockings. A matching bra was also noticeable under a transparent black gauze long-sleeved shirt, the scoop neck showing off her slim neck. Her hair was twisted up in a bun, a few tendrils straggling loose of the tie and falling across her eyes and framing her face. Lips were painted a lush, sinful scarlet and glistening, obviously an expensive lip gloss swiped over those lips. A black satin ribbon encircled her throat, a bow tied at the exposed nape of her neck, a few rebellious strands of red-gold hair falling there as well.

Olivia purred as she hung up the coat, feeing a twinge of pride at the creeping blush hot on Casey’s cheeks. While she’d had no problem with the outfit itself, it seemed she was embarrassed by the way Liv’s wand’ring eyes blatantly roamed over every inch of her lean, alabaster body.

“Always a good hostess to paying customers, sweetie,” Liv breathed into Casey’s ear, having stepped boldly forward into the attorney’s space. Trailing a hand up one of the redhead’s sides, Liv delighted in the shiver she felt ripple from her fingertips, her body slowly pressing into Casey’s until the ADA was leaning back into the touch. Liv feathered her touch over one breast, grinning at the gasping little noise Casey made. Finally her hand slid over Novak’s neck, fingers circling and palm sliding over smooth skin. By the time Casey realized Liv could choke her with that hold, the grip tightened-- not uncomfortably, just to the restriction one might find in a choker necklace. Olivia resumed her ministrating distractions on Casey’s ear, that talented pink muscle sliding around the shell of her ear and then plunging in, Casey shuddering responsively at the sensation.

“You’ve walked willingly into the lion’s den, Casey Novak. I now own you, and when I’m through with you, our debt will be settled.” Olivia bit sharply on the lobe of Casey’s ear, pleased with the surprised yelp that escaped the ADA’s lips. “You look just good enough to eat, serving yourself up on a silver platter like this, with all the trimmings,” and she accentuated the last word with a snap of the elastic on the fishnets, Casey jumping yet again at the unexpected contact.

Olivia laughed, pulling back just so her lips were a fraction from Casey’s, brown eyes bright and happy to see the attorney’s already closed with longing. A firm slap to her beautiful ass amended that and the redhead shot to attention, the tiniest whimper forming in her throat. Liv grinned wolfishly and felt Casey’s heart start to race, pulse fluttering under her fingertips.

“Don’t get too tense, lover, or I might have to beat the tension out of your muscles. Tenderize you before my feast,” she growled, eyes flicking momentarily to the hip she caressed with one hand, Liv slipping it around to feel up Casey’s behind. Fingernails scratched through both the fishnets and cotton undies, pinching, squeezing and grabbing until Casey’s mouth fell open to let out her shuddering whimpers, each delicious little noise sending zings of pleasure between Liv’s thighs.

Casey’s green eyes clouded, already hazy with arousal and slid half-closed, not daring to close entirely and disobey Olivia. The attorney’s shoulders slumped just a bit and Olivia offered a gentle, approving squeeze to Casey’s neck, fingers grasping around that ribbon.

“That’s a good girl,” Liv assured her, lips pressing firmly against Casey’s cheek to leave a kiss-shaped mark of lipstick there, the red bright on the lawyers fair skin. Olivia’s tongue snaked its way back up the Casey’s ear, circling once more.

“I’ll have you know, Casey, that this lioness is very, very hungry.” And her tongue slid so silkily into the redhead’s ear that the younger woman clutched at Liv’s hips to maintain her balance. Olivia abruptly withdrew, her voice devoid of the sultry seduction and suddenly filled with a hard discipline.

“Who said you could touch me?”

Casey’s eyes went wide and her hands dropped as if burned, but Liv pulled away, smiling and tightening her fingers on Casey’s neck.

“Too late.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Casey stuttered until a sharp slap to her ass silenced her.

“Liar. You’re a player in this game, I can recognize one when I see her. You took that first hit last week like a pro,” and Liv allowed herself a little chuckle at her choice of words, a cold smile curling her painted lips. “The usual rules apply. You’ve just earned your first spanking. Mm, two minutes in and I’ve already got an excuse to beat you. Thank you, Casey.”

Casey ducked her head, wisps of red falling from the messy bun as she did so. “Yes, ma’am, you’re right.”

Olivia purred at that, greedily grabbing Casey’s body tightly, pinching one nipple through her clothes, the other fingers digging into Casey’s ass, tongue plunging into the ADA’s ear all at once. The sudden flood of sensation crashed over the attorney’s body, a deep groan rolling from her chest as she melted into Olivia’s touch, panties suddenly and thoroughly soaked.

Pulling away just as abruptly as she’d attached herself, Liv hooked a finger into the top hem of Casey’s undies, fingernail scraping low inside the garment against a pale hipbone before curling around the elastic. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get out of the foyer, hm?”

Casey tried to control her breathing as she was led slowly through the hall and into a room that seemed to double both as a study and as a bedroom; a large desk in one corner with a bookcase next to it, a bed, wardrobe and dresser on the other side. She blinked at some of the books on the shelf, lots of fantasy, even more non-fiction, a few best sellers, a few classic literature, others obviously part of large trilogies and series.

“You read--”

“Yes, I read. It tends to help when I give my statements, talk with my lawyer, read my rights,” Liv quipped, a wry smirk curling her lip. Casey stopped when Liv dropped her hand to turn away, mouth falling open.

“I didn’t mean to imply that, I-I was just… surprised to find that… one, er, such as… such as y-yourself would be so--”

“Literate? Well-read? Bookish? Yeah, well, I surprise a lot of people, it’s part of my job.”

“Surprise in prostitution?”

“Whaddya think all this is about,” she said, waving an arm at the room absently as she bent over to look for something in that wardrobe. Casey blushed when she found herself staring at Liv’s ass, stretching those black shorts thin enough for the outline of her panties to show through-- had there been any to show. “And you can stop starin’ at my ass anytime now, Novak, this is supposed to be me getting my bribe.”

“If you go around broadcasting that this ‘bribe’ (and I kindly thank you to avoid that word in the future) actually happened, two things will happen. One, I will deny it to high heaven, and two, you will be locked up faster than you can blink because I will not have this on my record ruining my reputation, do I make myself perfectly clear?”

Olivia straightened slowly and turned, red stiletto heels turning on a time and advancing on a paling ADA. “I didn’t think I was going to get to use these on you but it seems you’ve just provided with me with ample opportunity to blister your butt and tie you up to do it. You will now turn around, take off that flimsy black thing and spread ‘em. Pretend it’s a strip search, I’m sure you’ve seen at least one of those, working with cops.”

From her fingers dangled a pair of very shiny, very real handcuffs, and the arched eyebrow over those smoldering brown eyes left little room for doubt. Casey was about to stutter an apology when Liv spoke again.

“And y’know, I do have more scruples than you apparently deign to notice. I know your name, Novak, you’re a good lawyer; maybe the only one. You put away the guys that’d beat up on me and otherwise get away with it ‘cause those beat-cop pigs don’t care.”

Her eyes had softened marginally, voice without its edge. Fingers gently brushed back a lock of Casey’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her fingers slid gently over a cheek and around her chin, one sliding over those lips and then drawing a line down her neck until it caught in the ribbon. When Olivia’s finger curled securely around it she gave a harsh tug, Casey stumbling to her knees, eyes level with the slice of skin between Liv’s garters and shorts.

“However, if you ever speak to me in that tone again, not only will I take from you what you owe me, but I will not show up in court and I will let that bastard go free. Because I have friends that will dispatch him a lot easier than you will, if you catch my drift, and I’d hate to see all those poor, broken families lose out on their closure because an arrogant ADA doesn’t know her place.”

A hand hit lightly on the underside of Casey’s chin, her eyes flicking up Olivia’s sinful body and meeting those lusting chocolate hues, dancing over a scarlet-lipped grin. “Do I make myself perfectly clear?” she asked sweetly, jangling the handcuffs lightly.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl,” Liv purred. “Now be a really good girl and go bend yourself over that desk while I fetch my paddle.” Gulping, Casey did as she was told, ‘spread-eagle’ing herself and trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. She heard the pro rummaging through what she guessed to be the large wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.

“Haven’t used this in a while,” the brunette mused, crossing back to the waiting redhead, admiring her hand-crafted leather paddle. “Lucky you.”

The lawyer closed her eyes slowly, head dropping forward onto the cool wood as she felt the leather slide up the inside of her legs, from ankle to thigh and back down on the other leg, until she finally felt Liv bring it back up a third time, fingers tugging the fishnets down to the tops of her thigh-highs, nails scratching lightly over the backs of her legs under the hem of her panties, a shiver threatening to throw her off balance entirely. Olivia grinned and pressed her body into Casey’s, chin resting on a pale shoulder and a hand roaming over Casey’s lean stomach, rubbing absent circles.

“Still enjoyin’ yourself, Counselor?”

“Yes,” she ground out, another blush flushing across her cheeks as her jaw clenched, embarrassment setting in at her position-- which was bent over a desk with her legs spread for a prostitute in a hotel room in a seedy neighborhood on 106th street.

“Yes, what?” Olivia demanded, grabbing a handful of that gorgeous red-gold hair and pulling back sharply, exposing Casey’s slender, pale neck.

“Yes ma’am,” the attorney amended with a gasp, her breathing increasing almost immediately at the swift discipline. She felt her knees tremble when Olivia kissed her neck softly just under her ear, tongue sliding down her pulse point until teeth clamped onto her shoulder, Casey hissing at the mark.

“Good,” she rumbled, a swift clicking signaling Casey’s wrists being handcuffed securely in front of her. Liv hooked the metal chains onto the handle of the top drawer of the desk, the lock keeping Casey from tugging away and the location leaving her stretched out quite nicely.

Two more efficient motions -zip, zip- and Casey’s boots were pooling around her ankles, fishnets dragged down with scraping nails along the backs of her thighs and calves, making her shiver. Olivia grinned as she saw the redhead’s knees tremble and left those clothes at the attorney’s feet. Casey’s shoulders fell forward from their tensed position as she felt the pro move away, simultaneously missing the burning touch and glad for the reprieve. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the wood as she tried to steady her breathing.

Olivia took a step back, admiring the sight, Casey’s delicious little ass wiggling just a bit as she tried to gather herself and keep her legs straight. “Mmm. Ohhhh, Counselor, I’m going to have so much fun with you, you don’t even know,” she murmured, swinging the large leather paddle slowly eyeing up those lean, pale legs.

Casey allowed a small breathless laugh to pass her lips, smiling as her eyes closed and she dropped her head against the desk. “Well, would ya mind hurryin’ up? This position isn’t exactly comfortable and I don’t have all day.”

SMACK!

“OWW!! Sonofabitch!”

Liv sat back on the desk, that delicious slice of thigh appearing near to Casey’s eyelevel, the distraction good enough to keep her occupied as she finally stopped swearing, the paddle swinging innocently again and a large red mark marring Casey’s thighs. “You just don’t know when to stop, do you? Time to teach you a lesson, Casey.”

The brunette slid back off of the desk, heels clicking as she settled herself. One hand lay on the small of the attorney’s back just to hold her in place, while the other gave just two warm up taps. Then she started to lay into her, beginning her lecture without so much as a warning, a grin lighting her features at the yelps Casey couldn’t contain. She punctuated every other word with a hard, almost severe hit, using most of her force but just as much of her discretion to know when enough was enough. (And she wasn’t even close to enough yet.)

“Correction!” POW! (“SHIT!” Casey exclaimed, rattling her handcuffs as her arms strained against the restraints.) “I will take my sweet time if I so choose. It is not your choice to be comfortable, you will stay as I tell you because I tell you. You’re right, you don’t have all day; I have all day, all night and all next week, because who is to say my testimony won’t just take one day? All I agreed to was one showing. You want a double feature? You’ll have to double my pleasure and double my fun, Novak.”

“Motherfucker, that hurts!”

“No shit, Sherlock, it’s supposed to!” SmacksmackSMACK! “And watch the language, I don’t like my pets to swear at me. Either start begging or keep that pretty mouth of yours shut!” She demanded, now varying her stroke so it hit each cheek, each thigh and covered every inch of that beautiful backside, halfway down those legs to her knees, willowy limbs trembling with the effort of keeping her supported. Liv finally slowed her pace and stopped, setting the paddle down on the desk next to her as she perched, legs crossed, fingers scratching over Casey’s tensed back lightly.

Casey was shaking all over, drawing in a long breath and trying to speak but knowing that her voice would break. Olivia purred, watching with a practiced eye the way those elegantly sloping shoulders were shuddering. Circling the desk and sitting in the large leather chair, she reclined, steepling her fingers and crossing her legs, calmly waiting for Casey to look up, a blush hot across those cheeks when she couldn’t wipe away the few tears that’d fallen.

Hiding her slight surprise, Olivia leaned forward, unhooking the cuffs and motioning for Casey to come around, the lawyer kneeling next to the high-backed chair without so much as a prompt. This time Liv’s mouth almost fell, but she passed it off as licking those lips, a surge of pride sending a wave of pleasure between her thighs as she saw the wince flit across the younger woman’s face.

“Ass on fire?” She couldn’t help but ask, a smirk curling one side of her mouth.

“Yes, ma’am, thighs too.” Swallowing hard, Casey closed her eyes, furious at the way her voice wavered. She gasped at the gentle touch wiping her cheeks, and her eyes fluttered open, looking up at Olivia’s strong features, a sadness hidden behind the dominating façade and haunting those gorgeous brown eyes.

“You know why. You asked for this, showed up, looked so luscious and delectable,” Liv said, fingers stroking that chin, head tilting to one side as she gauged the ADA’s condition. “I own your ass for now, and I don’t appreciate attitude. Understand?”

“Yes,” Casey responded quickly, dropping her eyes and making Liv grin. “Can I go now?” And that smile faded in an instant.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s all you wanted, wasn’t it? To blister my ass? I’ve got court in the morning, and you do, too. Ten o’clock,” Casey said quietly, eyes still on the floor, her fingers picking at one another, the heavy handcuffs chafing on those delicate wrists.

Olivia started to rebuke the statement, and stopped, her mouth open but no sound escaping her. Wasn’t that all she wanted? Casey had a fine ass and she did enjoy spanking the hell out of the cocky lawyer, but seeing all the fight out of her ruined all the fun. And of course that’s what she wanted. All she wanted was a little fun. Nothing else.

‘I’m not through with you yet’ would be the normal response, and Liv only got halfway through the first syllable before she got stuck like a broken record. “I--I… I-I…” was all she could manage to stutter, looking down at her defeated ADA with a twinge of emotion that scared the shit out of her. No! She did not want to hold Casey until she felt safe. She’d made a living out of breaking people, not hanging around to pick up the pieces and taming them.

“Fine. You wanna run on home? Go. I’m tired of you already. Maybe I’ll think of something new for tomorrow. I don’t need you wasting my time. I can’t very well go two nights in a week without working anyone, now can I? Go on, shoo.”

Casey winced for more than one reason and she kept her head bowed as she offered her wrists. “Please, take off the cuffs. You might want them for someone else,” she mumbled, Liv choosing to ignore the cheeky remark. She slid the metal cuffs off of Casey’s hands and dropped them noisily to the desk, uncrossing her legs and spreading them, one nearly straddling Casey on either side.

“You sure you wanna leave so soon, Counselor?” Liv asked innocently, leaning forward so that her cleavage was more visible down the lacy black and crimson corset. Casey inhaled, eyes fluttering closed as Liv’s heady arousal hit her full on. The knowledge that only the thin fabric of the black short shorts hid the pro’s treasure served to weaken Casey’s resolve a good deal. She had to clench her fists so tightly her nails pricked her palm to remind herself that she’d have to beg for permission, and her pride wouldn’t bend that far. (Yet.)

“Y-yes,” she finally said. “You’ve d-done what you want with me. Tomorrow it’ll be my turn,” she said, standing and wiping at her eyes. She was glad she’d cried earlier because the rejection and temptation game the beautiful woman was playing was wreaking havoc on the attorney’s feelings (when just two days previously she’d have denied there had been any at all).

Stunned by the rebuff, Olivia forced a cool mask of dominant indifference on her face. “Fine. Get the hell out, then, I’ve got customers to pistol whip,” Liv ordered, shoving Casey back roughly and spinning the chair away.

Unable to understand or contemplate why she was so hurt, Casey gathered her things and left silently, a brooding, emotional wreck of a working girl crying for the first time in years in her wake.

-

Casey looked at her watch, tapping her foot impatiently. Three ‘til ten and no sign of Benson. “Fucking hell,” she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes and sighing heavily. A little louder, she said, “I swear to God, if she doesn’t show up I will be--”

“I hope you’re not about to say ‘beat her’, Casey,” a rumbling voice husked in her ear. “Because I’d hate for you not to be able to sit tomorrow.”

The redhead clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to gasp in front of her peers. As it were, she only swayed a bit, turning with an irritated frown on a dolled-down Olivia. She couldn’t hide the surprise as she saw the light make-up and demure dress. Her eyes raked over Liv’s figure as the pro did a little twirl, smirking. Lavender trench, black pinstripe pencil skirt (with light purple stripes, of course) and a dark violet blouse, undone to that button that just hints at the black lace beneath. (Casey swallowed hard at that, and scolded herself for noting that the swell of Liv’s breasts was totally emphasized by that bra-- stop it!) The outfit was completed with some stiletto pumps, black with a small purple bow at the heel. All in all, cute, classy and entirely appropriate, and Casey said as much.

“Glad you approve, Counselor,” Liv purred, adjusting her purse strap and sliding her hands into the trench’s pockets to hide the shaking in her fingers that belied her nervousness. “Can we get this over with? I’ve only had one coffee and as you know, I’m more of a night owl than anything else, not used to being awake this early in the day.”

Casey smirked, grabbing her briefcase and sliding into the courtroom. “Pretty jittery for only one cup of coffee,” she remarked, Liv’s cheeks going hot as she realized the ADA had realized her anxiety that fast. “He’s entitled to a speedy trial, Ms. Benson, but I’ll do my best. The bailiff will call you when I need you.” With that she slipped into her domain, feeling like she almost had a one-up on the pro.
</div>

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:42:04Z

07. Cowgirl/City Girl
Part 2/2

“Wait, your Cherry?” she asked, enough emphasis on the ‘your’ to make Casey smile against the olive calf she’d been kissing.

“Yes, mine. Got a problem?”

--

“No. Yes. I mean-- I don’t want to…come..between…” Liv’s voice trailed off much like Cherry’s head earlier in the evening, and her eyes closed, a wince flitting across her face. She felt her stomach muscles flex as she sat up without the aid of her hands. Casey’s head lifted and she straightened, having been bent over Liv’s legs as they dangled off the bed. Her hands curled into fists and the redhead rested her knuckles on either side of Liv’s hips, the motion rocking the cowgirl forward as her weight shifted. She ended up with her lips an inch away from Liv’s, the Detective suddenly gulping for air.

“Come between what, Olivia?”

Liv’s foot kicked absently, it’s pair following close suit as both her feet were trapped in the jeans now pooling at and encircling her ankles.

“I don’t know if you and Cheryl actually have a thing or not. From what I could tell from Cherry and her reactions you don’t, but that also doesn’t mean that you can’t already be involved, I mean, I just assumed--”

“You just assumed because I hit on you and flirted that I’d be available. Well, I pride myself on bein’ on loyal gal and we did kiss. I promise ya that wouldn’ta happened if I hadn’t been lookin’ for it to,” Casey said, leaning in to capture Olivia’s lips.

Liv closed her eyes, bound hands rising to just brush her knuckles along the underside of Casey’s jaw lightly, a lock of hair caught between two fingers and tugged lightly. Casey grunted just as lightly in response, a smile curling her lips as they separated and came together again, Casey lifting a hand to Olivia’s cheek as her lips pressed against the corner of Liv’s mouth, tongue sliding over the crease of the brunette’s lips. While Liv moaned and allowed the redhead’s tongue access to the warm crevasse of her mouth, Casey had lifted one leg, a booted foot stepping on the material between Liv’s legs. As Casey moved in between Liv’s thighs, the Detective’s legs rose instinctively to wrap around Casey’s waist, the denim effectively stripped off of lean, tan legs.

Liv’s back arched as she felt her legs glide over the leather chaps still adorning Casey’s hips, her hands flopping uselessly to her lap as Casey smiled, diving in for another kiss. She slid her tongue into Liv’s mouth slowly, texture rough against the brunette’s pliant tongue, a purr rumbling from the redhead. Taking Olivia’s bottom lip between her teeth and biting sharp enough to elicit a whimper, the purr turned into a growl before she sucked gently for a few moments, pink muscle swishing soothingly over the offended lip, parting them with a satisfying smack.

“I think you should give Cherry another apology,” Casey said once they’d parted, Casey hovering over her breathless city girl.

“I will,” she promised.

“I also think you earned a second spanking with that attitude of yours, hands all over me just ‘cause Cherry left,” Casey added, pushing herself to standing as Olivia’s eyes widened, the woman on her back desperately trying to control her breathing.

“O-okay,” she agreed, and Casey’s eyes shimmered behind her bangs, lips licked in greedy appreciation of compliance. One eyebrow flicked up, quirking and inquiring.

“I think I’ll spank you with-- wait, no… you’ll see,” she said, changing her mind and leaving her cop in suspense. Lips twitched into a devilish smile and Olivia tried not to think about what she’d just gotten herself into. She instead focused on (a fully clothed) Casey, hands on her hips and a lip bitten as if she were deciding something. Her eyes raked over her half-naked body, Liv shivering under the hungry, sweeping gaze and Casey laughing at the tremble she saw there.

“Turn over and move to the middle of the bed. Face down, arms up.”

Olivia complied slowly, slow enough to provoke a slap to her ass and a quicker response, Liv’s cheeks burning as she realized she’d just enjoyed the swift discipline.

“Don’t move,” Casey purred, slipping out of her flaming chaps and letting them drop to the floor with a leathery ‘fwump’. Left in her jean shorts and boots, the low clunk of heel to hardwood floor was the only sound Olivia could hear after the rustle of clothing being removed faded. Olivia stretched, her bound hands out in front of her and holding onto the edge of the bed, fingers nervously sliding over the comforter her face was pressed into.

She heard Casey return and her back arched a bit as she started to look over her shoulder but a quick command froze her. “I said don’t move, Olivia. I think that’s an extra lash.” Dropping her head she shook her head quickly, wondering at being at this woman’s mercy in less than twelve hours of meeting her.

“No, please, I’m sorry, Casey.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology, did I?” And the boots clicked closer, a low whistling sound audible every now and again. Shaking her head no vigorously again, Olivia ducked her head down, breathing deeply and trying not to move at all.

“Good girl,” she purred, a smirk curling Casey’s lips. She licked her lips at the sight of a completely submissive Olivia Benson spread on her bed, muscles visibly tense in the dim light. Casey twirled the leather instrument between her fingers, swinging it around once and admiring both it and the sound it made when she swung it around. Smiling, she approached the bed.

Olivia whimpered when she felt the mattress sink under the weight of the bed at the edge, announcing Casey’s arrival. The smirk grew into a grin on the dominant redhead’s features, and she scooted forward on her knees under she was straddling Olivia’s thighs, her weight settling softly on the cop’s legs.

A snap of the fingers undid Olivia’s bra clasp, and Olivia sucked in a tight breath, her muscles tensed with the effort of not moving an inch. Casey ran her fingers down the strong physique, then, biting her bottom lip, replaced dancing fingers with the feather light touch of the end of her riding crop, the leather loop slithering down Olivia’s spine.

Goose bumps rose in the fluttering brush’s wake, a ripple of pleasure at the mysterious touch causing a tiny buck in the Detective’s hips before she forced them down onto the bed once more.

“This is your punishment, Olivia. Ten--no, eleven strikes with the crop.” Leaning forward, Casey threaded her fingers through Liv’s hair before gripping tightly and pulling her up sharply, the crop’s looped end presented to Liv’s mouth. “Lick it and I’ll start.”

Swallowing hard, Olivia’s mouth went dry at the demand. Her eyes were wide with surprise and disbelief. After a moment of silent, unmoving disobedience, Casey’s hand offered a second sharp pull, eliciting a whimper. “You’ve got three seconds until it’s twelve, sweetheart.”

“One…”

Olivia’s mouth fell open immediately, her tongue sliding across the cool, dark leather, tasting the bitter end of her punishing tool. Casey’s stomach clenched at the sight of such swift compliance and she kissed Olivia’s cheek before letting that hair go.

“Good. Just eleven, then.” Casey’s hand slipped under Liv’s hip, lifting her pelvis and placing a pillow beneath it as she dismounted, kneeling on the bed next to her vulnerable little city girl. “Ready, Detective?” she asked, crop poised and ready.

Olivia’s throat constricted, wanting desperately to scream no and hightail it out of there. But Casey’s soft, velvety voice kept her calm, and she knew somewhere inside that Casey wouldn’t hurt her-- well, that badly, anyway. Arching her back to put that delicious ass in the air just a little bit more, Olivia nodded. As she was face down on the bed, she missed the hungry look and slight drooling from Casey at that, and it took the cowgirl a second to collect herself.

“Count out loud.” It wasn’t a request. With that, Casey whipped the crop down three times, the leather loop the only bit stinging her covered bottom to start. Olivia yelped, fingers gripping the sheets suddenly, but she took a shaky breath and spoke, voice wavering. “One, two, three…”

Casey ran a hand down Olivia’s back, fingernails scratching lightly. “Good, good, sweetheart. Already down to eight, sweetheart.” Her hand flattened at the small of Liv’s back and pushed down firmly, holding her in place as the crop came down again, twice, on the back of her thighs, much harder than before.

“OW! F-four. Five,” Olivia hissed, squirming only once before she exhaled, breathless at the touch of Casey’s fingertips sliding over the red welts rising on her olive skin. Swallowing hard, she just kept the count in her mind. Six is next, six are left. Olivia tried her best to relax, unclenching her fists and taking a deep breath. Casey marveled at the self control and willing nature of the brunette, and lay the crop against the back of her thighs once more.

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart,” she murmured, leaning down to press a kiss against Olivia’s ear. “Really good,” her voice had dropped into a sensual rumble, Casey’s tongue snaking around the shell of her ear and swirling inside before she pulled away. Casey twitched the leather over Olivia’s skin, watching eagerly as Liv’s muscles trembled in response. She slid the soft loop up over the hem of her panties, tickling just at the waistband, contemplating sliding them down. Tilting her head to one side, Casey watched the tension in Liv’s posture increase and decided she save that for later. The course of the crop continued, up over onto Olivia’s back, sliding across sinews and rippling muscles. Casey let it smooth over a patch in the middle of Liv’s back before one quick CRACK, “Six! Owwww…” and an angry red mark rose, marring the flawless plane of Liv’s golden skin.

Olivia couldn’t help but arch her back, tears springing to her eyes at the sudden, sharp pain. She moaned, taking another deep breath and calming down once again. Casey couldn’t control the growl of appreciation that rumbled through her at Olivia’s compliance, and she bent down, teeth scratching ever-so-lightly over the mark she’d just made, tongue soothing and licking over the welt. “God, you’re so good, Olivia,” Casey murmured into her skin, kissing once before retreating yet again. Arching a brow at Olivia’s position, a grin blossomed on her cherry lips as an idea formed.

“Hold still, Olivia. And remember that I’m not done.”

A whimper was Liv’s only response, causing another shockwave to jolt Casey between her legs. Groaning, she lifted herself into straddling the Detective once more, the riding crop resting against the outside of Olivia’s thigh now, as if it were the flank of a horse.

“Do you want me, Olivia?” Crack!

“Yes! Owww…Seven, seven,” she mumbled, nodding and fighting back the tears. Casey switched hands, fingers twitching in anticipation.

“I asked you do you want me?” Crack to the other outside of her thigh.

“Eight! Yes, Casey, I want you, I want you so bad it hurts!” she howled, hips bucking and Casey pressing her free hand to Liv’s shoulder blades, riding her like a wild horse until she calmed again. The crop was raised again, fingernails on Liv’s back scratching their way towards Casey until her fingertips rubbed her center through the denim, teeth clenched against the wetness forming because of Olivia’s words.

“What do you want me to do?” Snap, crack! Two hits to her back, just between her shoulder blades where she’d been caressed so sweetly just a moment before. Olivia’s back arched and she writhed, Casey straddling her unruly Detective and holding on tight, listening as Olivia ground out the words.

“Nine, ten, GOD, that hurts but I want you to spank me, Casey, spank me!” Casey dismounted, grabbed a handful of Olivia’s underwear and yanked them down, winding up and landing her last solid blow on Olivia’s bare cheeks, the bright red line rising immediately before Casey threw the crop down, gathering the crying Detective in her arms. “Eleven,” Liv whispered, fingers going slack.

“Oh, yes, ‘Livia, you’re the best. You’re so good and you’re my sweetheart and you made it.” Casey turned her over carefully and pulled her into her lap, holding her chin and kissing her, thoroughly, gently and lingeringly. “Good girl.”

Olivia finally calmed down, embarrassed at her behavior (all of it, the bitchiness, the bawling, the disobedience) tonight and buried her face against Casey’s neck, inhaling the light scent of sawdust, shampoo and something spicy and sweet. The redhead tilted her head down a little, trying to get a look at her good girl behind those protective bangs.

“Y’alright, Livvy?”

The detective still didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded into Casey’s shoulder, taking in a bit of a shuddering breath. That wasn’t quite up to snuff in Case’s book, however, and she gave Liv a light slap under the chin, brunette responding by inhaling sharply and raising her eyes to expectant green ones.

“Better. Answer me when I ask a question, honey.”

Starting to nod and thinking better of it, Olivia took a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am, I’m alright now.”

“Good,” Casey purred, knuckles catching Liv under the chin and guiding her forward, lips meeting softly but growing in intensity quickly, Liv mewling under Casey’s forceful touch and going to putty in her arms. Grinning against Liv’s lips, she moved along the strong jaw line, tongue flicking outside the shell of her ear and causing a shudder to ripple through the bruised body, Casey cradling her as her tongue swirled slowly and delved in, a wet heat pooling between Liv’s legs and trickling through to Casey’s lap.

“Oh, God, Casey, please…” she moaned, back arching as Casey situated her gently on the silken sheets, the fabric soft enough for her to lie down but rubbing against her chafed skin enough to remind her what would happen if she disobeyed. Casey was on the prowl, crawling up Olivia’s body, her mouth and tongue blazing a path along Liv’s leg, searing into the Detective with every brush of lip, her panties still tangled around her knees and gently removed, hands sliding over smooth plains of leg and handled carefully.

“Olivia, you taste divine,” Casey hummed against one inner thigh, Liv spreading her legs to invite her cowgirl higher, bound wrists still inching down, fingers searching for a lock of red hair to tug toward her. Casey smiled at the hesitant, shy pull to her hair, a whimper accentuating the motion. Tightening her jaw and removing the smile from her face, she pounced on Olivia, the hard weight pushing down her hips, denim straddling bare midriff as her hands pinned those wrists up by the headboard.

“I know you’ve taken your punishment already tonight, Olivia, and I’m going to reward you for being such a good girl. But you still have to ask me for anything you want that I’m not already giving you.” She rolled her hips, the motion pushing Liv’s sore backside against the sheets, a hiss escaping Liv’s mouth even as she looked up with wide brown eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Casey purred at the compliance, at the ma’am, and at the way Liv’s eyes slid half closed when she rolled her hips slower, her butt grinding down against Olivia’s hips as they lifted in response, Liv arching her back and moaning breathlessly.

“Casey, touch me, please, touch me.”

“That’s a good girl,” she said, peeling off her shirt and tossing it, a white lace bra still holding her ample breast, leaving Olivia naked (well, her bra was trapped around her wrists) and Casey underwear, shorts and boots. Liv was feeling more than a little exposed but she didn’t get the chance to voice it.

Casey leaned down to Liv’s breasts, the arching of her back presenting them so nicely that Casey latched on to one dark nipple, tongue swirling gently around the hardening bud, Olivia’s moans became sighs as she tried very hard not to buck under Casey’s burning touch. “Mmguh,” Liv groaned. It was inarticulate, but enough to encourage Casey further, her teeth clamping around the nipple and biting fairly hard, a short scream rolling from the back of her lover’s throat.

“OH God!” Casey had her writhing, trying to keep still but unable to fight the waves of pleasure crashing through her, driving her to crave more, Casey’s feather touches not enough. Her hands started to slip down, looking to hold the redhead in place so her roving tongue would work on the other nipple, the one she’d been pinching between two fingers for so long it hurt. Casey felt the movement, however and slammed her hand down on the rope, growling fiercely.

“Your hands stay where they are, or I bring Cherry back and you get to watch me ride her all night long, clear?”

Olivia whimpered loudly at that, eyes going wide at the thought. She stretched her fingers to curl around the rails of the headboard, convincing herself that she would not move unless Casey told her to.

“Yes, ma’am, please don’t do that, Casey, I just want you,” she said quickly, biting her bottom lip and looking too cute for words that Casey couldn’t stay mad. Sighing, she arched a brow down at her submissive cop, running a hand through those disheveled locks with a smile. Casey started to slide down Olivia’s body again, slipping her foot against the outside of Liv’s leg, the leather boot cool against Liv’s burning skin.

Casey trailed her fingertips down the underside of Liv’s arm, delighting in the wake of goose bumps following her scratching fingernails. Leaning into Olivia, she pressed her lips against a collarbone, tonguing the skin there up the side of one neck, teeth closing over Liv’s earlobe lightly before Casey whispered into her ear.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Tell me anything at all and I’ll give it to ya. All you gotta do is say the word, Olivia Benson, and I’m yours.”

Liv shuddered at that, her eyes fluttering closed as Casey’s hips bucked into hers, denim rough and hard over her growing wetness, a blush flushing her cheeks as Casey’s hands palmed her breasts, kneading until she mewled and whined for more.

“I don’t hear any words, Detective,” she murmured, stilling her hands and body, simply resting atop an arching Olivia.

“Casey, pleaaaase,” she whined, eyebrows furrowing with the smoldering need in her belly, her fingers tightening around the bars until her fingernails pricked into her palms.

“Please what?” the cowgirl asked, pressing kisses to Liv’s ear softly, brushing away the hair there to free up space, twisting a lock around her finger. Frustrated tears threatened to fall from Olivia’s eyes, but her pride was breaking. She’d rather be whipped and fucked than only have her arrogant dignity to keep her company.

The tension in her body went a little slack, and she licked her lips, gathering her courage. “I… I want you, Casey. I need your fingers inside of me. I need you to … to fuck me, please. I need you to kiss me like there’s no tomorrow and make me come so hard I see stars.”

“Ohhh, Olivia, you’re such a good girl,” Casey said, grinning and licking her lips, a finger sliding down that lean body and swiftly entering the slick canal, a groan escaping both women with the ease of the motion.

“Liv, you’re drippin’ wet, honey, oh you feel so good,” Casey rumbled, adding two more fingers and thrusting in and out slowly, Liv’s legs spreading to allow better access and her arms pulling at the headboard, her head thrown back.

“God, yes, Casey! Fuck me, please, please pleasepleasepleaaase!” her words slurred as she yelled, breathing increasing as Casey bit into the exposed portion of her neck, bathing the bite mark with her tongue, growling appreciation into the newly-purpled skin. Casey curled her fingers, scissored them, pumped them as hard as she could and as fast as she could, reveling in the moans of ecstasy Olivia was rewarding her with.

“Oh oh oh oh, yessss,” Liv panted, back arching into Casey’s body as her other hand slid down, playing along her wet hot entrance, flicking at her clit. “Please, Casey, please, kiss me and make me come!”

“Yes ma’am,” the cowgirl responded, mounting and covering Liv’s body with her own, one hand driving into Olivia’s center with a moan at the way her pussy just ate up her fingers to the knuckle, the other’s fingers clamping around her clit and pulling, her tongue diving into Liv’s open mouth and swallowing the first scream of her orgasm, her body stretched with tension and then falling onto the bed, panting heavily.

Casey grinned, grinding down and repeating the motion, slamming her hand forward against Liv’s drenched center and squeezing her clit between thumb and forefinger sharply, a second orgasm crashing over Liv’s head, this time the loud, “Casey!” clearly heard.

“Oh… god.. Ca--Casey,” Liv tried to speak, unable to catch her breath, the redhead still stroking slowly and not letting Olivia down from Cloud Nine just yet. “P-pl-please…”

Casey melted Liv with a sweet, soft kiss before putting her sopping wet fingers into that sweet mouth. “Lick.” Olivia did, eyes closing as her tongue swirled around Casey’s fingers, her cheeks hollowing just a tiny bit as she sucked them dry.

“Good girl. You’ve earned this.”

“Earned… wha--ohhhh,” Olivia moaned, Casey’s lips pressing against her moist folds and sucking at the moisture already there, tongue sliding leisurely up and down the length of her slit. Liv couldn’t help it this time, her hips rose well off the bed, back arched. Casey grinned and pressed her back down, hands holding her firmly in place as her tongue delved in, curling around a mouthful of Liv’s honey and drawing it back into her mouth.

Just a few licks and Olivia spiraled back into bliss again, screaming Casey’s name over and over as the redhead knocked her hat back, licking her lips and grinning, propping herself up lazily on her elbows. “So, Liv. Enjoyin’ your vacation?”

Olivia breathed heavily for a few minutes, unable to respond. Casey didn’t discipline her this time, only curled up next to her and traced her fingers absently over her naked Detective’s body, eyes wandering eagerly over expanses of flawless skin.

“I think so,” she finally said weakly, turning her head to Casey and bringing her face close, nose almost touching her cheek and requesting silent permission to nuzzle and kiss. Casey wiggled and closed the gap, feeling Liv’s swollen lips press against her cheek and ear lightly, tongue grazing intermittently. “May I let go?”

“Yes, baby, you can let go. Here, gimme your hands, you’ve been good.” Casey undid the tie with one pull, and tossed the rope, Liv wincing as she rolled her wrists. The redhead brought the injured skin to her lips, kissing the abraded joints all over, making Liv hum with pleasure. Casey rolled onto her back, arching a brow at Liv, who hesitantly made her way over, hovering with uncertainty.

“Yes, you may.”

Permission granted, Olivia smiled, peeling the clothes off of Casey with skilled ease and efficiency. Dedicating herself to the task, her lips kissed every inch of Casey’s chest, pink nipples pebbled within moments of Olivia’s white teeth closing around them. The cowgirl tilted her head back, inviting the cop to mark her as well, more than one bruise appearing on her shoulders and neck while those hands slid over surprisingly soft skin.

“You taste delicious, Case.”

“Oh, you feel good, Liv, keep going, sweetheart. Keep gooooo--Mmm!” Casey bit her bottom lip, the ‘o’ drawn out into a long groan as Liv’s fingers slid around between her hot center and her damp panties, a tongue circling around in her ear the same way Olivia’s fingers circled her opening with unhurried, deliberate strokes.

“What do I do, ma’am?” she asked, drawing back to show Casey that she wasn’t trying to be a tease, her eyes fluttering down shyly, her free hand still tugging at the denim cutoffs tangling around Casey’s knees.

Casey lifted her head, which had fallen back as she moaned and smiled, pushing herself up on her elbows. Biting her bottom lip she flicked open her bra and slid it off, returning to her reclined position, jean shorts dangling off of one ankle by now.

A voracious grin settled in place on her rosy lips, her tongue sliding over them once. “Lick me.”

Liv needed no more instruction. Her fingers curled around the hem of her panties, sliding them off of fair hips and over slender legs, the silky blue thing tossed away. Casey shuddered involuntarily as Olivia placed an open-mouthed kiss against her center, her back arching and her body tensing.

“Fuck me, Liv, that’s good!” Olivia grinned to herself, tongue sliding inside just a fraction before retreating, savoring the taste as she thought of the would-be command.

“Yes ma’am,” she answered, hands smoothing over lean thighs to grab onto that perfect ass, Casey hissing in pleasure as her hips lifted in response, Olivia’s teasing tongue not enough.

“You’re working yourself on a full whippin’, Liv, and I’ll make you cut your own switch if you don’t do me right. Now.”

Olivia whimpered at that and plunged her tongue into the hot canal, humming as she lapped up the flowing juices greedily. One hand snaked along the inside of one thigh, fingers tickling around Casey’s drenched entrance as her tongue moved up to play idly at her clit, circling the nub until her teeth clamped lightly over it, tugging gently and slowly the pressure too far between to bring her orgasm but too close together to be teasing.

“Ohhhmygod, Olivia. Where did you learn to do this? Jesus Christ!”

Liv was too busy to smile, her tongue curling against the velvety walls, pushing and diving deeper with each thrust, two fingers sinking in and out, helping the cause. Casey rocked her hips against the rhythm Olivia set, gripping handfuls of sheets beneath her and growling her appreciation. Olivia bit sharply on her clit, then soothed the abused nub with one long, hard suckle, fingers thrusting fierce and intense as the cowgirl screamed her release, stars exploding behind her eyes as she gasped for breath, sweat beading her brow.

Panting, Casey flopped back on the bed, hair haloing on the pillow like fire, Liv suckling gently still at the warm folds, kissing and nipping around upper inner thighs and along taut, muscled abs until she crawled up to nuzzle Casey’s neck.

“Good Lord, you had me so tense and turned-on with everything before that it didn’t really take much to get me off, did it, honey?” the redhead chuckled, fingers curling in the hair at the base of Liv’s neck possessively as the brunette kissed her neck, purring.

“Not really, no. But I liked it that way, Casey,” she confessed, pressing her body against Casey’s side timidly, anxious until Casey turned, draping an arm over her side and scratching fingernails hard down her back, a purr rumbling in her chest as well.

Olivia yelped as the nails scratched harshly over one of her welts, the line still bright and almost maroon against her olive skin. Casey’s brows furrowed as she remembered, and she immediately murmured an apology into Liv’s hair, pressing her lips against the woman’s forehead before turning her to lay face down on the bed.

Liv shivered as Casey’s hair tickled her shoulder blades, lips pressing to the stripes she’d made not too long ago, purrs murmured into her skin. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’d forgotten I’d smacked your back. But, God, it was too sweet to resist, all this skin,” she whispered, flattening her hands over the plane of skin in question, fingertips feathering along the crop’s mark.

“It’s o-okay,” she stuttered, another shudder running from head to toe through her along her spine, where Casey continued to drop kisses, lips trailing ever southward toward that beautifully bruised ass, hands leading the way with a gentle massage. Casey pursed her lips against the small of Liv’s back. “Ready for me?” she rumbled, tongue flicking suggestively and an eyebrow arched, almost daring the challenge.

“Yes, ma’am.”

--

Liv turned over in the soft white sheets, stretching and feeling a warm, empty place next to her. Lifting her head from the pillow, she squinted against light streaming in from the eastern windows, a shape moving briefly past the doorway.

“Casey?” she called tentatively, head flumping back into the pillow slowly as she heard a refrigerator open and close.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead! Sheesh, what kinda hours do you keep over there on that east coast? I woulda been up a couple hours ago most days! You’re lucky it’s the weekend,” Casey shouted back, bare feet padding quietly over her maple flooring.

“I keep fine hours,” Liv argued half-heartedly, sliding around under the down comforter and wincing lightly at the friction against her sore backside. Flipping over lazily, she ran a hand over her face, fingers raking through thoroughly tousled locks, scratching lightly at the back of her neck. She sighed contentedly, eyes still closed against the brightness of the room but opening slowly, staring mostly at the ceiling as she realized this was the most relaxed she had been in months.

“Hungry?”

“Yeah, I could go for somethin’,” Liv agreed, rolling over to one side and propping her head up on a fist, elbow sinking into the cushy mattress.

“Good,” Casey said, voice lowering to a normal tone as she rounded the corner and appeared once more. Mussed, red-gold hair spilled messily around her shoulders, fair skin marred lightly with the dark love-bites around her neck, the rest of her body uncovered and glorious in the morning’s rays. “Thought you might be in the mood to eat a little bit.”

Olivia’s jaw hit the floor, bounced back up and fell again. She was surprised it hadn’t already crashed through to the first floor of the Lodge. It didn’t even register in the melted Detective’s mind that flowers were on the tray as well as juice, toast and a few other nibbles.

“Cat got your tongue, city girl?” Casey drawled, grinning and setting down the tray to present her bouquet, the bluebonnets grouped with a single white ribbon tied around the stems. “No, wait. That’d be me.” Liv’s smile made Casey melt all over again, and the redhead turned to retrieve the bowl of fruit, popping a blackberry in her mouth. Olivia tasted the sharp juice on her lover’s tongue as she dove in for a sweet kiss, a genuine glow settling around Liv as she pulled away, flowers held delicately to her chest, sheets drawn up as well.

“This is lovely, Case. Thank you.” Casey gave a small half smile, lips curled to one side.

“You’re on vacation, Olivia. You should be treated like a princess.” Casey pecked a cheek, lifting a glass of orange juice, arching a brow and mumbling against the lip of the cup. “One who has learned her lesson and her place, I hope.”

“Yes’m.”

“Good girl.”

The tray was brought over and Liv munched on the toast, grinning at the array of white, wheat and cinnamon swirl before her, eyes dancing with delight at Casey’s blush and mumble of, “Well, I didn’t know what you’d like so I just made everything I had,” the one moment of vulnerability the first she’d seen. It was endearing and appealing and when Casey’s mouth twisted unhappily at the lapse, Liv wondered at the pull she had to please this woman, who was almost always confident in herself and every movement she made.

“Sooo,” Casey said lazily, her head resting in Liv’s lap as the sun came in through the blinds, sheets rumpled between them as Olivia scanned the paper. “Up for some activities today?”

“Sure,” Liv mumbled around a mouthful of strawberries, tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip as her eyes skimmed the news headlines.

“Horseback riding?”

Olivia nearly spewed strawberry juice all over herself and Casey, a hand covering her mouth as her eyes bugged, a mischievous grin flitting around the redhead’s mouth as her nose just nuzzled Liv’s lower abs. “What, it was just a suggestion,” she said innocently, batting stunning green eyes up at Detective Benson, her hand already protectively rubbing her ass. Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth, tongue licking once around the open ‘o’ as she searched for the words. Sighing when nothing came, she bit her bottom lip, mouth twisting to fight a smile.

“Don’t think so.”

“How about a hayride, then. You and me, out to the pasture, few acres over, pack of Coronas and the whole day ahead of us?” Casey asked, slowly sitting up, an arm sliding around Liv’s middle and fingers grasping her back gently, lips a teasing distance away. Olivia smiled, tilting her head forward, just barely touching her lips to Casey’s.

“I like that plan a helluva lot better, cowgirl.”

Half past ten found the two women heading downstairs and out the back door to hitch Pablo to a small wagon when a rather odd and somewhat amusing sight met their eyes.

Elliot was stumbling around the outside of his room, key in one hand, the other covering his eyes under the bright Texas sun. Funny thing was… he was missing his pants.

“El?”

“Olivia, is that you?” he asked, squinting in her direction as she offered a glance over her shoulder at Casey who simply motioned toward the stable, picnic basket covertly carried along.

“Yeah, it’s me, Elliot. What happened?” She asked, mothering him immediately and taking the key from his hand.

His mouth opened and closed as he shuffled into the room, a sigh heaving from his chest in relief at the darkness inside.

“I… I’m not sure. Last thing I remember, JT and I were arguing about that twenty bucks you won off him --nicely done, by the way-- and he was sayin’ that it was some sorta dumb luck. I challenged him to prove that Texas guys were better’n New Yorkers… then I was here. Oh, God. I’m glad I don’t have the kids right now, they’d be little terrors wreaking havoc on poor ol’ dad.”

“Poor old dad?” Liv echoed, snorting with a smile on her face as she dug through his backpack and found him fresh clothes. “Poor ol’ drunk Stabler, more like.”

“Ah, shut up, you’re Ms. Bright Ray of Sunshine and I recall that you had more than me.”

“Lie. You had five beers and two or more shots; I only had one beer and… four…five? Shots. Anyway, math ends up in my favor. Shut it, Stabler, I don’t wanna hear anything about my math skills. I came here to unwind, not to put my brains to the test,” she pre-empted his quip by throwing a towel in his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, go on ahead with Casey, I know you’ve got somethin’ planned. I’m gonna go find JT and get my pants back.” Liv’s sputtering at that was a bit comical, and Elliot had to fight the chuckle at her gaping mouth pretty hard.

“Wha..how.. Didjou… know?”

Elliot grinned as he paused in the doorway to the bathroom, stripping his shirt in front of a dumbfounded Olivia. “Please. You practically sucked face in front of everyone-- twice. And I saw the basket. NYPD don’t just hand out this gold shield for nothin’, Liv. Have fun.”

Olivia shook her head and sighed, starting the coffeemaker for him as the water came on. Two cups of coffee and one pair of jeans later, he was back to his ol’ spry self, his mild hangover banished in the face of a new challenge: Elliot was ready to try his hand (i.e. suck hilariously) at calf roping.

Lucky for them, Casey heard that from JT as the cowboy swaggered up to the wagon, and she grinned, knowing the change of plan would be welcome.

This Liv had to see.

--

The troupe arrived back at Old Time Saloon for one last night of drinking at a quarter to eight, sundown marked by thoroughly relaxed Detectives wishing the weekend -or at least this night- could stretch on forever. Liv excused herself to the Ladies’ room while Elliot was sucked immediately into another beer game; this time it was pool, and the Stabler grin emerged, 9 Ball his specialty. The cop was soooo ready to win his pants back. Rolling her eyes, the redhead just smiled, removing her white Stetson just long enough to run her fingers through her hair.

Casey whistled loudly, most of the occupants of the bar looking up and then returning to their conversations as the redhead’s eyes didn’t land on them. Cheryl glanced back and smiled as she saw it was she being summoned, quickly serving out the rest of her drinks and navigating the packed tables to follow Casey’s sauntering figure into the bathroom, where Olivia was stepping out of a stall with a grimace on her face.

“Somethin’ wrong, lover?” Casey asked as she came in, grinning as she already knew Liv’s ass was sore from it’s sound beating the previous night.

“Naw, baby, it’s fine, I like my ass to be striped like a barber’s pole while wearin’ a damn thong with denim,” she spat sarcastically, washing her hands and cursing herself for bringing only her sexy lingerie. (Though she hadn’t expected to be on the bottom of any sort of intimacy this weekend, so really it was just unlucky.)

“Watch your tone or we’ll make it worse.”

“What we--ohh,” Liv said, trailing off into silence as she saw Cherry peeking out from behind Casey’s shoulder, offering a small wave and a genial smile. “H-hi, Cheryl.”

“Evenin’, ‘Livia.”

The cop’s eyes went a little bit wider as she saw Casey’s eyes focused on her fingers, her hands still just on the button to her jeans. “You don’t want--”

“Go on,” Casey said, crossing her arms cheerily as Cheryl approached her embarrassed city girl. Leaning back against the door and propping a foot up, she nodded her head lightly, tone softening from it’s playful teasing to a gentle yet insistent demand. “Show her.”

Olivia’s eyes closed slowly as she undid the zipper and button, taking a deep breath and letting it out as she bent over, jeans peeling away from her round ass to reveal the light red glow of their spankings. Cherry hissed instinctively at the red-purple welt lines criss-crossing those delicious thighs. A finger traced the marks softly, a murmur of, “Aw, sweetie I’m sorry,” escaping her red, pouty lips before she offered a light kiss to one abused cheek and a pat to her hip.

The brunette’s eyebrows rose at the tenderness, a gasp escaping her when those lips brushed tenderly against her skin. Casey just smiled at the surprising turn of events and watched, keeping the door secured. Her eyes flashed a shade of darker green at the way Liv’s head rolled back, and she had to bite her lip to suppress the urge to cross over and caress that bruised ass herself.

Cheryl tugged the jeans back into place for Olivia and guided her into standing, her back pressed lightly to Cherry’s chest as the blonde’s fingers nimbly slid around the Detective’s hips and to her zipper. (Liv would later deny that she let out a small, low, “Guh!” at that.) One small hand brushed at the top of the lacy thong from hip to hip as she tugged up her jeans slowly for her. Liv inhaled slowly, fighting back a moan, eyes closing. Cherry smiled as she did up the button, stepping away and letting her hands slide off of Liv’s appealing waistline.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Olivia, eyes fluttering open as she turned to look at Cheryl. “I’ve never said it right to you. I was drunk and meaner than I’ve ever been and you didn’t deserve any of what I said and--”

Liv’s apologetic ramblings were cut off by lips pressed to hers, Cherry lifting herself to tiptoe to get her lips that high. Her painted lips were soft against the half-open, surprised Detective’s mouth, who leaned down just a bit to aid the situation. Cherry smiled just a little into the kiss, a hand glancing off of Liv’s cheek before she pulled away, rocking back onto her heels and licking her lips. With a slight blush adorning her cheeks she turned, Casey pushing herself off of the door and trying very hard to hide her proud smile as Cheryl left the bathroom, leaving a rather melted Olivia Benson in her wake.

“What… shit… the hell… Fuck. Something in the water.”

“Hm?” Casey asked lazily, an arm wrapping around Olivia’s waist as she dipped her head down, stealing a kiss against the warm olive skin of her neck.

“I said, there must be something in the water out here. ‘Cause you cowgirls can kiss the pants off of New York girls any day of the week,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair and tilting her head, allowing Casey more access, who was chuckling against her ear.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me show you how to ride that bull out there.”

Olivia turned her head, catching the kiss aimed at her cheek off the corner of her mouth instead, a light growl rumbling at the back of her throat. “I wanna ride you,” she confessed hotly, eyes sliding closed and her voice holding just that tinge of submission that made Casey all hot and bothered.

“Later,” she promised, and led Liv out.

Casey jumped on, showed up everyone, as she was like to do, and finally got bored enough to signal for them to just turn off the thing, ‘cause those tight thighs and strong grip (that Olivia knew well enough about at this time) weren’t gonna concede. Elliot tried for the sixteenth time, and got thrown yet again. (In a little under five seconds, but he’d tell everybody it was ten-- or was it fifteen? Liv would proceed to call him out, and Munch and Fin would then never let him live it down that he got showed up by a cowgirl. Cragen would shake his head, and things proceeded as per the norm in the One-Six.)

Liv hopped on and rode the mechanized machine for a good thirty seconds, looking for all the world like she shoulda been a cowgirl herself, denim cutoffs riding up those thighs, breasts bouncing like the most luscious melons one could ever hope to encounter, held tight in that black tank top, the loose white over shirt flapping a bit. Casey cheered louder than anyone and was there to lift Olivia off of her ass when she finally got tossed.

“Well done, city girl!” she congratulated, patting her on the back before that hand slid down her spine slowly, fingers scratching around her hip as she leaned in, teeth nibbling at an earlobe before she added, “Y‘know, ‘specially for someone whose sore behind is as blistered as yours.”

“Thanks, cowgirl.” Cue a loving gaze and smiles, a mumble or two about blowin’ this popsicle stand and an enthusiastic agreement ensuing shortly.

At that point, Elliot rolled his eyes and put the keys in Liv’s outstretched hand, the brunette not even looking away from a grinning Casey’s face, brown locked with green as the two women contemplated what their second and last night could bring.

(You can be sure it was one helluva time.)

--

Elliot was throwing their stuff in the back of the truck the next morning when Casey appeared on the Lodge porch, a cup of coffee held in her hand as she leaned against one of the wooden pillars. Olivia watched her with a smile, the redhead sipping and hooking her thumb in her pocket, baggy jeans slung low on her hips and a monster truck t-shirt with cutoff sleeves and a raggedy hem brushing against her abs to show off her midriff.

Liv closed the door behind her, stuffing her practically empty wallet back into her pocket, tucking a lock of hair behind Casey’s ear. The cowgirl smiled, knowing that most of her bangs framed her face while the rest of her fiery locks were pulled back into a low ponytail. Mimicking the motion with Liv’s hair, she pushed off of the post, boots kicking up a bit of dust as they followed the trail to where the car was parked silently, Liv’s fingers curled around Casey’s elbow.

Elliot grunted as he swung into the driver’s seat, Casey every bit the gentleman and opening Liv’s door for her, a smile whispering about both women’s lips at the act of chivalry. Elliot sighed, looking out at the pasture wistfully.

“Best weekend of my life,” he murmured, reaching for the keys.

Liv turned her head, glancing at the woman who’d taught her so much in so little time.

“Best weekend of my life,” she agreed, grinning.

Olivia leaned out of the truck’s window down to Casey, grinning as her eyes slid closed, lips sliding over the redhead’s as a hand held her cheek lightly. The kiss was soft and sweet, and ended with a satisfying, low smack. Licking her lips appreciatively, Olivia sat back in her seat, arm bare, tan and resting on the open window.

“Might get around to a few more vacations, huh, El?” she asked absently, eyes still locked with the cowgirl who stood next to the vehicle as the engine rumbled into life. The cop grinned, donning his shades once more.

“Hell yeah, Liv.”

Casey rose to tiptoe, kissing Olivia’s cheek before rocking back on her heels, their fingers sliding away from one another. The cowgirl tipped her hat, grinning as Elliot gunned the engine and started to peel out, her words reaching them just as they sped away.

“Y’all come back now, y’hear?”
</div>

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:40:25Z

07. Cowgirl/City Girl
Part 1/2

“Remind me again, Elliot, what the fuck we’re doing out here?”

The Catholic cop smiled, his grin brightened by the string of curses escaping his partner’s lips as they flew over a bumpy patch of West Texas road. “Cap’n said we needed to get out of New York, have a real vacation. Since Kathy wouldn’t let the kids out of school for Friday ‘cause of exams, you’re stuck with me.” He turned his head, sunglasses glinting with sun, his grin still rivaling that of the bright star in a cloudless sky as he drove the rented, souped-up 4x4 truck out to Live Oak Ranch.

“I think he meant Jersey,” Olivia grumbled, bouncing uncomfortably in her seat and thankful when Elliot screeched to a halt just inside the gates, clambering out of the vehicle with a hand to her back. A wave of rolling heat crashed over the two Detectives, Elliot the first to shed his coat and settle on his jeans and t-shirt. Olivia stubbornly kept on her long leather coat, roasting with the addition of dark slacks and a three-quarter length sleeve. She should’ve been prepared getting off the plane, but had gone from plane to car almost immediately, air-conditioned the entire way.

“Holy-- mother of God, it’s so freaking hot out here!”

“Yeah. That’s what they tend to call it when the temperature gets upward of 90 degrees, yes.”

“Thank you, Detective Smartass.”

“Well if you took off your jacket--” but he was silenced with a death glare. Rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses and muttering to himself Elliot shrugged a shoulder. “Fine then, roast. But we’re stuck out here these three days and y’might as well get a tan…”

Grabbing her backpack from the bed of the pickup, she shielded her eyes, swinging it over one shoulder. As Elliot did the same, the foreigners trudged through the knee high grass, approaching the Lodge and gawking at the sheer expanse of grassy flatland stretching around then.

A small cluster of buildings was situated off to the right, looking to be about a five minute drive. The Lodge was a large building in front of them, looking for all the world like a small country B&B. A row of what the New Yorkers assumed to be ‘hotel’ rooms lay just behind that, apparently made as individual accommodations. All in all, despite Liv’s best efforts, she was impressed. Elliot had stopped in his tracks, smiling like a boy on Christmas morn.

“What is it, El?”

“Horses!”

“Why are you-- wow.” Olivia stopped mid-sentence to gape like her partner at the crowd of shimmering equines, galloping around a large enclosed field, a stable barely visible in the distance.

The horses galloped around their large pen, hooves thundering across the ground as the herd circled and looped, seeming to be many bodies of one mind. The sound of rumbling hooves on the hard ground continued, growing louder and louder despite the distance.

“What the…?” Elliot blinked, coming out of his childlike wonder and looking around for the source. Olivia blinked once, twice, and something nudged her to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes widened at the sight of a huge, cream colored horse barreling down on her and her partner, the once sturdy looking six foot wood fence now seeming like a matchstick craft about to get obliterated.
“SHIT!” was about all she had time to say before she tackled Elliot, knocking the two of them to the ground as the steed lifted easily over the fence and past the prostrate Detectives by a good body length, the landing shuddering the ground.

“Ho, Pablo, whoa, boy,” was spoken in a tough but feminine voice, and the figure wheeled the horse around, trotting up beside the shaken cops and eclipsing the sun, throwing them and their ‘attacker’s face into shadow.

“Howdy! Sorry about that, folks, I didn’t even hardly see y’all standin’ there!”

“Who…what… Jesus Christ…” Elliot was a bit dumbstruck, apparently, and stood slowly, dusting himself off. Olivia was just plain speechless, shaking slightly on the ground, her jacket coated in the dirt they’d stirred up ducking for cover. The cowgirl dismounted gracefully, bending down to offer a hand, smiling brightly. Taking it slowly, Olivia was brought to her feet and finally got a good look at this woman.

Fiery red gold hair spilled out from under a straw, Drifter cowboy hat, across her bared shoulders and over the collar of a sleeveless red plaid shirt left with the top button undone and the rest tied just under her breasts, leaving her taut stomach open to the sun, fair skin kissed with a light tan. Jean cutoffs were slung low on her hips, complete with a belt and huge silver buckle, and long black chaps held tight to her skin. (The only reason Olivia knew the jeans were cutoffs was because she was looking at her ass-- NO! (yes!)-- and saw that the denim ended at the tops of her thighs.)

After a lingering glance to those firm legs, Olivia's gaze wandered down, a small smile growing at the sight of flames stamped into the dark leather. Black boots completed the outfit, and she licked her lips once, trying to find something to say other than, "Damn, you're hot."

She did manage to find her sarcasm though, and winced internally at the tone she took with her first words. "Running people over. That's a nice trick to welcome your guests." Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be for Olivia’s knees), the woman gave a dazzling grin, her green eyes dancing in a gorgeous face.

"Not somethin' I usually try to do to such a beautiful woman, I promise I don't make a habit of it. Honestly, I'm not sure how I didn't see you, because you're even more stunning up close than I imagine you must be from afar, sweetheart."

As Olivia struggled with the depth of that compliment, Elliot grinned and took up the slack, offering his hand and receiving a firm handshake in return. “Hi. Detectives Elliot Stabler and Olivia Benson, checking in for the weekend?”

“Oh, right! Now I’m really sorry; you guys haven’t even paid yet! Shit, and cops too? Er, pardon my language, Detectives. Larry don’t think I’m the best welcomin’ committee, bein’ a wrangler and all. Shiii--shoot,” she corrected, smiling, “just follow me and we‘ll get you checked in.” Going back to her horse, she took the reins of the large, beige steed, murmuring little nothings at him until the partners had situated themselves once more, i.e. Olivia’s mouth had stopped flapping like a fish out of water and they’d taken their backpacks up again.

“Beautiful horse,” Olivia commented, trying to regain some of her usual suavity and failing. (You’re talking about a horse. A goddamn horse. What the fuck, Liv. Insert mental forehead slap here.)

“American Cream Draft. Rare, ‘specially in these parts. Most people’ve got themselves ‘Stangs, wild broncos,” she commented casually, walking them to the front of the building. “I like my 16 and a half hands stallion, Pablo.” Tying up the horse and leading them inside, Casey got them room keys and gave a quick tour, then offered a short horse ride for a view of the grounds.

A few hours -and a shower- later, Olivia and Elliot wandered into the clothing store, feeling out of place in tennis shoes and long jackets. An hour later and with much lighter wallets, two grinning New Yorkers sported a bit of their new gear.

Elliot kept touching the brim of his black Stetson, grinning every time he was reassured the hat remained on his head. A sleeveless shirt fell over the edge of his jeans, the front tucked in to show off a new brown leather belt matching his new Laredo leather boots.

Olivia strutted out in a simple white blouse and jeans, the boot-cut falling over the tops of her brown, embroidered Durangos, silver glinting off of her hips with the belt looped there. Casey gave a low whistle.

“Well I’ll be damned, you two look like you might actually fit in around here!”

“You flatter us.”

“Yeah, a bit.” Grinning, Casey flicked her head back to a gathering of men at the front door, looking pretty decent and milling around. “Me and the guys were gonna go hit up the bar over in town. Well, not so much ‘town’ as a group of buildings where we’ve got somewhere to drink, eat outside of our own ranches and dance. You in?”

Elliot had already crossed over to the men, introducing himself with hearty handshakes. Rolling her eyes at her partner and smiling a bit, Olivia shrugged one shoulder, head flicking lightly to one side, the short bangs falling just over her eyes. “Guess that’s a yes.”

“Happy to have ya, sweetheart,” Casey murmured, offering the crook of her arm. A wave of shyness crashing over her, Olivia’s hand slipped hesitantly against that bare skin, fingers curling around the tanned elbow lightly. Casey’s face lit up at the gesture, and she whistled sharply, leading the way out the door, Olivia in tow. “Move out, boys!”

--

Olivia watched with a dubious eyebrow as Elliot stood, the intro chords to Shania Twain’s “Man, I Feel Like A Woman” filling the noisy bar.

“You gonna dance to this, El?”

“Hell yeah!” her partner retorted, slamming down his third beer bottle. He wasn’t drunk but pleasantly buzzed-- and he had to admit that he probably wouldn’t have been this relaxed doing his ‘Eagle Eye Dad’ routine watching his kids.

“You do realize you have to line dance.”

“’Course,” he mumbled, tucking in his shirt and situating his hat, a grin starting.

And Olivia watched on as Elliot fell in line next to Casey, mimicking her hooking of her thumbs on those low riding jeans just low enough to see her hip bones and a tantalizing slice of untanned skin just there-- no! Olivia shook her head, knocking back the rest of her first beer and frowning at the buzz she felt that couldn’t have been caused by the Budweiser.

Halfway through the song Casey came tumbling over, laughing and sprawling in the chair next to Olivia, her head thrown back, a hand to the top of her hat to keep it on, a few long moments of her just catching her breath with a smile on her face. Eyes closed, chest out, legs crossed in front of her, Casey was a sight. A faint sheen of sweat danced over her toned abdomen and sculpted arms, that damned top leaving just enough to the imagination to be maddening, a trail of sweat sliding down Casey’s long neck over her collarbone and… it’s disappeared into her shirt, and Casey picks that time to open her eyes. Caught staring and unsure of what to do, Olivia smiled nervously and called quickly for the waiter, ordering a shot of tequila to cover her wandering eyes. Casey’s green hues glittered, but she said nothing, flicking two fingers at the tender to signal for her own shot. A young girl brought them the drinks, winking at Casey as she made a show of setting the shot glasses down.

“Here ya go, Case, just like you like it.” Smiling back at the peppy blonde, Casey raised the glass to the girl.

“Thank you, Cherry.” The girl giggled and flounced off, totally unaware of the death glare Olivia was giving her (though Liv didn’t for the life of her know why she was ready to strangle the girl). The setting sun glared in through a window and cast a glow into the bar, the time almost eight and light still streaming in. Taking her shot, Olivia set the glass down slowly, inhaling sharply at the kick of liquor.

Casey fingered her glass, looking at Liv’s face, admiring all the strength she saw there, all the gorgeous, alluring, exotic beauty under the fall of golden brown hair. Liv’s eyes fluttered open as someone hailed Casey from the door, and the woman turned, shouting back, “Aw, shut up, I could rope you from here with my eyes closed, bigmouth!”

Turning back around, she was met with the patented ‘I don’t believe that shit’ look on Olivia’s face.

“You can’t.”

“What?”

“Rope that guy.” Casey’s brows furrowed, then rose in question, a thumb jerking over her shoulder.

“JT? Yeah, I could.”

“Blindfolded, from here?”

“Sure.”

“No way in hell.”

“Yes, ma’am, I can.”

Olivia’s chin tilted defiantly, accompanying a challenging brow.

“Prove it.”

The cowgirl laughed at first before catching the serious glint in her new city-girl’s eyes. Still almost laughing, she bit down the giggle but couldn’t hide the smile, grabbing her rope to hook it on her belt. An arm swept open the door, a finger tugging at the brim of the straw hat.

“Ladies first,” Casey said, head tilted down enough so that her bangs slid forward and hid the eyeing of Olivia’s ass on her way out of the building.

Casey unhitched her horse and mounted with a practiced ease, her muscles lean and visible with her scant clothing. Olivia stood, arms crossed, in the middle of the field, wind ruffling that already scruffy, appealing, don’t-you-just-wanna-ravage/rape/do-me?sex!hair. Casey continued to smile at the set of the cop’s chin, visible even from a distance. Pulling a bandana out of her pocket, the redhead tied it securely around her eyes only, leaving the rest of her sun-kissed face uncovered. One hand falling to her hip for the lasso, the other taking a grip on the reins, Casey called out to her challenger.

“You ready out there?”

“Waiting on you,” she retorted, hip popping out in her impatience.

Rolling her eyes beneath the blindfold, Casey grinned again, turning Pablo slightly and urging him into a light, trotting circle around Olivia.

“Y’know ya gotta keep talkin’ for me t’get a fix on ya, right, ‘Livia?” Casey drawled, one arm lazily beginning to swing her lariat.

“Will any kind of talking do?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” was the quick reply and Olivia blushed, glad the redhead couldn’t see her.

“Fine. You have the right to remain silent,” Liv began, Casey tilting her head as the lasso began to swing over her head. Watching curiously, Olivia continued, wondering what her talking really had to do with anything.

“If you choose to give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Almost there,” Casey mumbled to herself, preparing to throw.

“You have the right to an-- holy crap!” Halfway through her spiel, Casey had lifted into standing in the stirrups of the saddle and thrown her noose, the loop swishing neatly over Olivia’s head and tightening immediately around her torso, trapping her arms to her sides and resting just below her breasts, as Casey’s arms jerked back. Suppressing her grin just a bit, Casey tugged once to be sure she’d hit her mark.

“Hey!” Liv protested, stumbling forward a step. Dismounting and still blindfolded, Casey reeled in a thoroughly surprised (and impressed) Detective. Hand over hand and fairly quickly, Casey drew Liv closer.

“Whoa, slow down, Casey, you’ve made your point-- ahh!” At the last second she tripped-- right into Casey’s waiting arms. The redhead arched a brow above the bandana, grinning victoriously, her mouth a breath from Olivia’s parted lips. One hand pressed firmly against the small of Liv’s back and still holding to the other end of the lasso, one hand lifted a corner of the bandana, a sparkling green eye gazing at a breathless New Yorker.

“I win, Detective. What’s my prize?”

Olivia swallowed hard and straightened up as best she could, shifting her front against Casey’s as the cowgirl held them tight together. The motion’s pleasurable friction caused a jolt to shoot down into her abdomen, sparking a fire and subsequent gasp to escape Olivia’s berry lips. Arching against the sensation, Casey inhaled sharply, the motion pushing her forward just enough to press her lips softly against Olivia’s slightly open mouth, both women surprised but neither wanting to pull away.

Casey sighed into the kiss and Olivia moaned back, eagerly leaning into the redhead’s embrace. Eyes closing and the bandana forgotten, Casey’s hand slipped to the back of Liv’s neck, holding her tightly as she probed her tongue past Olivia’s lips, exploring as the Detective yielded under her firm, assured touch.

A cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls reminded the two women they were in public, and Casey pulled away from an out of breath Olivia, grinning and biting her bottom lip, tugging away her blindfold to see most of the men lined up on the fence, whooping and hollering and cheering them on. Elliot was smack in the middle of them, hard to see as he blended in quickly. The black Stetson on his head and the sleeveless blue plaid buttoned tightly across his chest matched the scruffy shadow on his chin. His jeans and newfound boots completed the cowboy outfit and one had to admit, he looked damned good.

“Screw you guys, just ‘cause it’s more action than any of y’all have seen in months!”

“Ca-sey, Ca-sey, Ca-sey,” they continued to chant, clinking their beers together in a toast for their long-undersexed cowgirl. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Olivia who was now blushing quite furiously at her state of bondage.

“Elliot, I swear to God, Cragen is going to have to find me a new partner and Kathy’ll need a headstone for you if you don’t wipe that shit-eating grin off of your face right now!” Olivia didn’t even have to get much past ‘headstone’ before her partner had paled and slunk back into the bar, grumbling about never getting to have any fun.

Casey’s grin softened into an apologetic smile, and she reached around the Detective to undo the knot at her back, effectively hugging Olivia while she did so. “Sorry about… all of that. I got a little carried away, and them, well.” Shaking her head at her friends’ behavior, she shrugged, offering a low chuckle. “They’re a pack o’ wild coyotes most days, today apparently being no exception.” The knot loosened and the rope fell, Olivia lifting each foot slowly in turn, Casey’s eyes never leaving hers as she gathered up the lasso and looped it back onto her belt.

“Hey, what should you be apologizing for, I come from Manhattan; more pervs there in a five block radius than you’ve probably got all together in this county.” A wry smirk tilted her mouth before her head dropped to one side shyly, brown eyes glancing up at the rough-n-rowdy, self-assured cowgirl from behind her lashes, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Guess you’ve got me on that one, ‘Livia. Whaddya say we go back in and knock down a couple more shots, maybe show those girls how to play pool?” Casey’s dazzling smile was bright and positively brilliant, the woman’s fiery gold mane of hair glowing in the setting sunlight. Olivia’s mouth worked up and down a couple times, searching for words as she got lost in beauty and jade hues.

“Y-yeah. Sure.”

Casey didn’t reply; but then again, she didn’t have to. Her grin lit up the room-- er, field. (Olivia wondered at this charismatic, charming, captivating cowgirl, and how she’d pretty much rendered the quick-witted Detective all but speechless. Or at least into a stuttering fool, even in her head.)

The redhead leaned in under the pretense of straightening Olivia’s shirt for her.

“I’d also like it if you’d maybe follow me home tonight, a little later, Liv,” she husked, velvety voice deep and throaty and whispering hotly against the shell of the shell-shocked Detective’s ear, causing an unwieldy tremble to shoot up the brunette’s spine. Brown eyes flicked down that figure as Casey sauntered away, hips swinging and spurs jangling a tune as her leather swished softly through the knee high grass. Glancing back over her shoulder, Casey grinned again, this one softer, a wink of a smoldering green eye offered as well before her attention then turned to leading Pablo back to his post.

Olivia stood dumbstruck for about thirty more seconds before she righted the brown cowboy hat on her head, setting it determinedly at a rakish angle.

“Think I might, cowgirl,” she murmured to herself, jogging to catch up with the rest of the crowd as they stumbled back into the bar, the room feeling a lot more loud, a lot more packed and suddenly a hell of a lot more fun.

--

Olivia slammed her glass down, grinning at JT.

“Cough it up, wrangler.”

“Ah, hell, ‘Livia, that ain’t fair! You city girls always come bustin’ in, showin’ us humble boys up and dazzlin’ the pants off us-- as well as the money in our pockets!”

“I wasn’t the one issuing challenges as to who could down a shot, run around a table five times, throw a dart landing on a number higher than 10 before running back to our original table and setting a glass upside down over a slice of lime after a second shot-- all of it faster than you!”

The crowd of men surrounding the triumphant Liv grinned, patting her on the back and ribbing JT about losin’ to a rough’n’rowdy Detective from New Yoark Sitay!

“Shut up!” he demanded, slamming the twenty down on the table. Olivia snatched it up greedily, climbing to her feet quickly and swaying with the motion but staying upright by will alone. Grinning that bright, victorious, Stabler-esque shit-eating grin, she waved the green bill at Casey from across the room, catching the cowgirl’s eye as she turned from doubled over laughter at watching Elliot get tossed off of the mechanized bull.

Forest green hues flicked over the scene, Olivia waving a Jackson proudly in her direction and JT’s hung head of defeat, an obstacle course laid out a little to their left, she gathered the gist of the situation and grinned with her exotic new beauty, offering a whooping, “Yeehaw!” of congrats, the smile lingering on her lips as she watched Liv stagger through the crowd, knocking into Cheryl a few steps from Casey’s seat at the bar.

“Oh, sorry Cherry, didn’t see you down there,” Olivia commented dryly, a vindictive twist curling her lip into a thin smile, the offhanded comment about the blonde’s 5’1” stature not lost on the girl. Trying to smile back but failing at masking the effort it took not to grimace, her jaw worked a bit as she rearranged the drinks on her carefully balanced tray.

“S’alright, ma’am, I know I’m hard to see. Y’know my name is actually Cheryl,” she added, lifting the tray higher as a couple people sidled by them. Olivia made the slow ‘Ohhhh!’ nod, her mouth open as her head bobbed gradually.

“I get it, Cherry, Cheryl, very clever!”

“Right,” the girl said, eyeing Olivia and wondering if she should tell the tender to cut off her drinks. But the Detective held her liquor well - or at least well enough to keep drinking as far as awareness went. Attitude, not so much, because Cherry was speedily souring on this woman who’d gotten her hooks-- er, attracted Casey’s attention so quickly.

“I think you might’ve had enough for the night, Miss Olivia. Don’t mind me sayin’ to the tender that you might oughta just have some soda, or a wine if you’re really pinin’ for somethin’ else. It’s just your first night here,” she finished, her voice trailing into silence as Olivia gave her one of those intimidating stare-downs, a cruel grin darkening her features as her scare tactics worked their magic.

“I think you might’ve had enough flirting with Casey. I think she’s probably flattered,” and the quick look to the ground fueled this train of thought, “But I’m sure she’s turned you down in the nicest possible way, hmm?” Olivia didn’t know she’d had this nasty streak in her but the liquid courage was flowing too fast in her veins and she couldn’t rein in this newfound spite.

“You’re young and pretty and a sweet little thing but I wouldn’t want to check up on your age and find out you’re too young to be serving anyone in this bar anything less than the rack you’ve got out on display there,” she scoffed, her eyes flicking briefly to Cherry’s ample bosom contained in a tank top, chocolate hues rolling at the blush flaming the girl’s cheeks.

Cheryl’s mouth opened and closed, halfway to doling out her own smart remarks but keeping in mind that this woman’d be gone in two days. She kept her piece to herself, attempting to cover up and dropping her head against the harshly truthful onslaught of pointed words. She was 21, but just by a month, and no doubt this investigative cop would dig far enough back to when she’d started here a year ago. Jealous witch. (And she really wanted to replace that ‘w’ with a ‘b’.)

“Why don’t you just saunter off to the other side of the bar and strut in that little slut skirt of yours for a few more tips, I’m sure Elliot wouldn’t mind obliging you.” Turning away, Olivia muttered just loud enough for the people in the immediate vicinity to hear, tucking her twenty into a back pocket and glancing over her shoulder.

“I already know what you’re “pinin’” for, honey,” she said, imitating Cherry with a high-pitched, badly-executed accent, but returning to her own low, dangerous voice for her last insult, “And I already know what you’d be if this were New York, New York and not Middle-Of-Nowhere, Texas.”

Casey was up in a flash, grabbing Olivia's wrist and flashing an apologetic smile to Cherry before her green eyes hardened, the jade chips turning on Olivia unhappily as the cowgirl dragged her off to a rather secluded corner of the bar.

"I don't know who you think you are with all the rights and none of the responsibilities of a real cop, throwin' around those unkind and unnecessary words like that," Casey hissed in one breath. Olivia hadn't quite caught on that the redhead was serious and trailed a finger up Casey's arm (the one still maintaining a firm grip on her forearm) lightly until her fingertips reached the frayed edges of Casey's sleeveless, cut off shirt. Her voice still playful and steeped in tequila (well, may spritzed-- she'd only had four shots total), she laughed, head thrown back far enough that the chestnut Stetson matching her russet locks wobbled dangerously on top of her brushed back but still disheveled hair.

"I wasn't doing anything I wouldn't normally, just having a little fun. Cherry, or should I say Cheryl," she corrected sarcastically, a flicker of jealousy in her eye as she did, "Probably knows I didn't mean any harm," she nearly slurred, the girl in question quieter than ever and making her rounds politely and with none of her usual spunk.

"Even so, down here we have somethin' I like to call manners, 'specially Southern ones and I think you owe Cherry an apology," Casey said, her voice losing it's hard edge but still firm nonetheless as Cheryl hovered at the next table, slow in her serving of Elliot and JT their beers (as if Elliot needed a fifth).

"Cops don't apologize, even if they're wrong," Olivia said a little louder, falling limp as her eyebrows furrowed, Casey not giving her the attention she was expecting. It was a bald-faced lie, but only Elliot knew that and at this point he was too drunk to call her on it.

Casey's eyebrows shot up, and she knocked the brim of her hat back a bit, a smile whispering around the corners of her mouth, which had fallen open in disbelief. "I find that pretty hard to believe. In fact, I'm sure any lawyer'd probably tell me you're lying outta your ass, Liv, and I don't like it-- no matter how perfectly shaped your ass may happen to be."

Olivia tried to jerk her arm out of Casey's grip but found she couldn't, and Casey suddenly pushed her into the wall, a wolfish smile on her features. "You gonna apologize, Detective?" Olivia swallowed hard, her pride roaring back an emphatic 'No!', but her lips just falling open soundlessly, making her look all the more innocent and speechless and kissable.

"N-no," she managed to stutter. Casey clucked her tongue like a mother who knew her child was making the wrong decision.

"You're not makin' me happy, Olivia. Don't know if you wanna find out what happens when I ain't." Casey said, pushing off of her and turning to walk away.

Olivia caught her arm, an eyebrow risen as green eyes looked at the fingers clutching her hand, jaw set and face impassive. "What, you got somethin' to say to me, now? I don't think I got the right impression about you this mornin', Liv."

Olivia felt a surge of indignation at that, and pulled her back on top of her, hands flying to the fiery red locks and tugging hard as she crushed her mouth against Casey's, tongue plunging past rosy lips with abandon, and in front of everyone. If this was Olivia's attempt to apologize to Cherry, then it was a bad one. Kissing Casey like that when Cherry clearly had a crush on the woman surely wasn't the best way to go about it. Casey was going to tell her as much, but then she felt Olivia's hips grinding forward into her and her arms wrapped around Liv tightly, lifting her up a bit as they kissed harder before they pulled away from one another. (Yes, breathless. Well, who wouldn’t be?)

“You just don’t know when to stop, do you?”

“Not really,” Liv said. “Makes me a good cop.”

“Yeah, and a helluva bitchy drunk. I’m taking you back to the Lodge. Elliot, you either bed down here or get a ride home, I’m taking the truck,” Casey said, dragging Liv by a strong grip on her upper arm through the crowd, most people parting automatically as the redhead passed, JT throwing her the keys from Elliot’s back pocket as she passed. After shooing Olivia into the truck, Casey turned on a second thought.

“Cherry, c’mere a minute, honey!” she yelled across the room, slapping Big Rick the doorman on the shoulder and asking him to let Ronnie know that Cheryl was done for the night, she needed to get on home. Rick nodded, retrieving the blonde’s things from behind his ‘bouncer station’. (His station was really just a short bookcase facing the wrong way that he stood in front of and looked around menacingly from. He was a bull-rider, and nobody really wanted to mess with a guy who could look at a pissed off half ton of beef with horns and decide to ride it anyway.)

Cherry looked a little confused but took her purse and keys, smiling shyly at the grin that Casey offered her. They stepped outside the bar, Casey’s eyes glancing back to see Olivia entertaining herself with some music. Oh, God, what she would’ve done for a camera to catch that bad dancing… it looked like one of those terrible moves from the 80’s that everyone’s mind has just repressed into the ‘Bad Memories’ section of categories. Ah. Moment lost. Shaking her head, she turned back to Cheryl, expression softening.

“I’m… sorry for Olivia. Don’t know what I’m doin’ apologizin’ for her behavior,” she realized, but continued, “But I know she’s just a bit drunk and she isn’t from around here, y’know, and I’m just sorry, Cherry. She was really mean and she really didn’t deserve to be.”

Cheryl nodded, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. “Yeah, well. I’ve had worse with guys and she was right really and I don’t think nothin’ of it anymore. Shrug it off, move on. Thanks for the apology, Case, but, uh, whatdidja want?”

“Well, I’m about to take this delinquent city girl back to my room and teach her a lesson or two, if you can catch my drift. You’re welcome to join in, seeing as how it’s you I’m punishin’ her for bein’ rude to,” she said, giving Cheryl an appraising look as she gauged the reaction. A smile almost instantly lit Cherry’s face.

“Really?”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart. Follow on back to the Lodge, we’ll give her a good spank and then you oughta be on home, missy.” Nodding quickly, she went to her car, Casey smiling after the blonde’s quick acceptance and compliance.

Hell. Might make a good replacement for the interim between Liv’s trips-- WHOA! When did she start making plans in her mental calendar that included Olivia? (Or Cheryl, for that matter!) Assuming the woman would be coming back for more and assuming she didn’t cut’n’run from the situation about to be (Casey sniggered at this to herself as she entered the truck) at hand.

“What’s so funny?” Liv demanded as the engine roared into life. Casey turned and pinned the drunken cop with a hard stare.

“You, if I have anything to say about it. Don’t you even care what kinda behavior you’re exhibitin’, Liv? Ain’t the best of etiquette even for a bar in Texas and sure as hell ain’t the decorum I know officers of the law to uphold to. I suggest you sit there and be quiet while I think up your punishment.”

The diatribe had shocked Liv into silence but the word punishment triggered her vocal chords to fight back against the paralysis induced by Casey’s unequivocal tone of voice. “Punishment?” she squeaked, mentally slapping herself again. (Can we not control our voice tonight, Benson? Stuttering and now this. Hell, just serve yourself up on a silver platter, no wonder she’s taking the domme attitude with you…)

“Yes, punishment. You’ll do what I tell you when I tell you because frankly, you haven’t earned anything more. You’ll apologize to Cherry after your spankings and she can help decide whether you’re sincere.”

Oh, shit, hold the phone! “Cherry?”

“Is that the best you can do now, Liv? Parrot my words back at me in question form? I don’t want to hear another word until we reach the Lodge, since you’ve obviously lost that charming wit I liked so much,” and her room brooked no room for argument. Olivia opened her mouth but just as she started to exhale exactly what she thought of this treatment, Casey turned, neutralizing any disputations about to leave Olivia’s mouth with an icy stare.

Licking her lips and swallowing hard, Liv nodded, chin dropping to her chest as she looked at her lap, fingers picking at one another. (Fuck. I haven’t even done anything more than kiss the woman and I’m about to screw it all up. You’re an ass, Benson, Grade A. Suck whatever it is up, ‘cause you probably deserve it.)

The three women exited their vehicles and walked into the Lodge, Casey leading the way up a spiral staircase to a floor that was obviously hers. Casey glanced over her shoulder at Liv, who had stopped at the couch and was scuffing the tile floor with her boot absently, all the posturing of an admonished child. (The sight melted her heart just a bit, and she figured her hand would do for now.)

Taking a seat on the dark leather, Casey patted her lap. “C’mere, Liv.”

The Detective looked up sharply, swallowing hard and making meaningful eyes at Cherry, who was mixing herself a drink at Casey’s mini-bar. The cowgirl merely arched a sharp eyebrow, a flick upward a silent question of ‘did she want this to get any worse because Cheryl was staying whether she liked it or not?’ that Olivia answered by stumbling over and lying obligingly across the leathery lap, feeling quite surrounded by the material as her nose lightly touched the brown couch.

Casey purred just loud enough for Olivia to hear, a hand gently removing Liv’s hat and running fingers through the shoulder length locks while the cap was thrown to her coffee table, Cherry turning around with a margarita in her hand, sitting on a seat to Casey’s right, putting her out of Liv’s sight range. Cheryl sipped her drink quietly, waiting for Casey to take the lead and waiting for her turn- though she was nervous about … whatever it was she was going to get to do, because this woman was a cop and if she didn’t like what happened, they’d be more than screwed. (Try Royally Fucked with capital letters.)

“Come a little closer, sugar, it’s alright,” Casey said, motioning for the girl to scoot down the couch. Cherry complied, Casey absently smacking Liv on the ass for squirming during the wait.

“Ow,” she complained, brown eyes flicking back over her shoulder. “Does that count?”

“Oh, Lord, no, honey, that ain’t even close.” And Liv was just the tiniest bit afraid at the grin that spread across Casey’s lips. But she was too distracted by the lips in general to call things off, so she settled down, crossing her arms and setting her jaw, intent on getting through this with her pride intact. (Oh, poor naïve little Liv.)

Casey motioned silently to Cheryl what the plan was, and the blonde smiled, eyes bright with anticipation as she set down her drink and sat close to Casey, thigh pressed against the leather chaps and a blush trying to creep around her cheeks.

“Forty, Olivia. From both of us. For attitude, for bein’ too drunk and not excusin’ yourself and for bein’ downright mean.” Casey waited a beat, almost hoping that Olivia would interrupt indignantly. (Eighty strokes is nothing to shake a stick at, and Casey guessed Liv knew it’d hurt pretty bad.) She didn’t think she’d earned the right to yank those jeans down just yet (and as such really wanted a reason to), but Olivia said nothing and Casey smiled.

“You’re learning, good. Cherry?” And with a nod of readiness, Casey landed the first smack on Olivia’s ass, firm but nothing too hard just yet. Cherry followed suit, executing about the same power a few seconds later. Liv wiggled her shoulders and took in a deeper breath, but still she said nothing. At this point, she was pretty positive that keeping her jeans on would protect her. Within the next few hits, however, she was quickly reassessing that assumption. After twenty strokes, she felt a heat start to warm her ass, the denim increasing the temperature. After thirty, they started to increase the tempo and vary the stroke, one hand hitting the tops of her thighs, the next a single cheek with stinging accuracy.

Liv was hissing with soreness by forty five, but she was doing her best not to cry. Her fingers clenched the edge of the couch, bottom lip bitten to keep from crying out. Casey kept going, kept pushing the power, because she was watching with an experienced eye. Cheryl was just following the lead, and though she took no sensual, personal pleasure from it (unlike our favorite cowgirl), she had a small smile on her face from her proximity with Casey.

At fifty-three, they heard the first complaint, and Casey was already impressed by Liv’s threshold for pain by then. “Please, stop, Casey.”

Casey kept going, turning to Cherry. “Did you hear somethin’, darlin’? Sounded a little like a naughty girl who thinks she can beg for a lesser punishment after bein’ a big bitch tonight, didn’t it?” Cheryl giggled, the sound sparking a furious blush on Liv’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she stated, starting to squirm as the women continued to beat on her ass, the tanned skin beneath the denim most likely thoroughly reddened and bruised.

“Sorry about what?” Casey spotted the very faint line of moisture between Liv’s legs and grinned, keeping the knowledge that Olivia was enjoying this far more than she probably liked to herself, her blows raining harder and sharper down on every inch of the Detective’s delectable derriere.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you, Cherry,” she croaked, voice going hoarse with the effort of keeping in her groans - pained and pleasured alike.

“You feel like she means it, sugar?” Casey asked, keeping count and realizing that they were almost up to seventy already. (Damn. She shoulda made it a hundred.) Cherry tilted her head, her spankings lightening just a fraction. She nodded silently, and hesitated with her next turn, Casey picking up the slack and continuing the spanking alone. Cheryl pulled back and gave her reddened hand a small massage, watching curiously as Casey pushed Olivia to tears.

“Bad luck, ‘Livia, Cherry don’t think you’re bein’ sincere, and neither do I. You’re hidin’ somethin’, cause most visitors I know don’t come round here just to insult pretty little waitresses and barmaids, they come round to relax. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she ground out, teeth clenching and her back arching under the assault, Liv’s eyes sparking with unshed tears.

“Tell me what it is,” Casey ordered, a hard, resounding smack emphasizing each and every word. “I’m going to keep going clear on past eighty unless you start talkin’!”

Olivia’s eyes closed tight but couldn’t stop the tears from leaking, and once one fell a torrent followed close behind, a sob shaking her as she buried her face in a pillow. “My job, okay? My job is shit! I have to deal with the scum of the earth! Reason I’m down here is ‘cause a girl just like Cherry was abducted, tortured, gang-raped and dumped by a group of guys we can’t catch! I saw in her the same things those bastards did! She’s beautiful and sweet and insulting her made me feel better, made me believe that girl I couldn’t save didn’t matter!”

Casey had already stopped the spanking, and her hand was rubbing soothing circles over Olivia’s back. Cherry picked up her purse quietly and stood, dropping a quick kiss on Casey’s cheek before bolting down the stairs. The redhead flashed a brief smile at the peck before turning back to Liv, who had already gathered herself from her fleeting breakdown and was drying her tears.

“Liv, I had no idea you were that kind of Detective.”

Olivia sniffled, rubbing a hand across her nose and giving a watery, shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, neither do most people. Hope you might understand why I keep it under wraps.” Olivia crawled off of Casey’s lap and backed up, reclining on the couch with one hand rubbing her ass lightly, a smirk trying to flit across her features.

Casey followed slowly, a hand brushing at the brunette’s hair, swiping the bangs across her face, fingers playing in the gold-brown locks and twisting them around her fingers, redhead leaning in for a kiss and receiving a predator’s welcome.

Olivia’s hands came up quickly, locking Casey in place as her tongue demanded and plundered around Casey’s mouth, rough strokes along her fighting tongue hard and uncompromising. Casey growled lightly, pulling back and finding Liv’s other hand sliding around her bare waist, looking to creep past her tied plaid shirt.

“You got some rovin’ hands, Benson,” Casey observed, gently taking the wrists of said mischief makers and gently holding them in check. Liv exerted a bit of power and leverage, breaking the cowgirl’s hold for the first and only time that night, groping with what she thought was a winning smile on her face.

“Yeah?” she asked cheekily, maneuvering into standing and bringing Casey with her with a forceful pull on her hand, the cowgirl narrowing her eyes when she stumbled into the embrace.

“Yeah. I don’t like ‘em.”

“Too bad, they like you,” Liv purred, licking her lips with a victorious smile as Casey’s fingers deftly undid the belt, button and zipper in record time, exposing a little more skin.

“Ooh, yes, just like that, Case,” Liv murmured as Casey rose, fingers undoing the buttons to her shirt one at a time, a kiss pressed to the strip of revealed skin in the middle of her body, toned abs praised with a swipe of tongue. Casey circled around, fingertips dancing but not removing the shirt just yet. She kicked off the spurs to her boots, the jangles going silent as her hands slid up Liv’s arms.

“You like that, Olivia?” she asked, receiving a growl of ‘yes’ in return. Grinning, Casey slid one hand around, drawing Liv’s hands together as they tried to guide slender fingertips toward the hem of her panties.

“Good. Now I think it’s time we get a hold of these two,” Casey said, and with one wrist flick had both of Liv’s hands held tight in the grip of one of her own and a velvety voice breathing on her neck, surprise evident in the way that Olivia didn’t even have time to react. Casey bit Olivia lightly on the ear, growling and gaining a tighter grip on the brunette’s wrists in her slightly calloused hand as her tongue slithered into Olivia’s ear, swirling around leisurely.

“I don’t need yer handcuffs, Liv, I’ve got plenty of rope,” the redhead hissed, teeth grazing over Olivia’s neck down to the collar of her shirt, lips pursing against the back of one shoulder as the white blouse slid down Liv’s shoulders, gathering at the clasped wrists behind her back. “But I will go get them if you don’t behave,” she added, a growl causing a shiver to slide down the usually resilient cop’s back.

“T-think you c-can… oh!-” she gasped at the tongue plunging in her ear, “rope me, cowgirl?” Liv asked, already knowing it was true. She moved her arms to her front as Casey let go just long enough to retrieve a bit of the aforementioned rope supply.

"I'll have you tied up faster'n you can blink, Livvy baby," she drawled, a wrist flick snapping the short length of rope against her outer thigh. Another flick twirled it effectively around Olivia’s wrists. A secondary looping motion efficiently cuffed the brunette, all in a little under five seconds, the knot finished off with a single loop; one tug would undo the binding, but it was unreachable even by Liv’s long, nimble fingers. Olivia struggled too late, her muscles straining against the cords, her thoroughly bound wrists already chafing under the braided rope.

“How’d you do that?” Liv asked breathlessly, down to her bra, panties and boots at this point (with her jeans slipping around her thighs), and feeling vulnerable under Casey’s hungry, sweeping gaze. Those emerald eyes flicked up, dancing with amusement as she backed away, drawing Olivia out of the living room with a tug to the end of the rope into the bedroom, her boots clunking softly as her heels kicked against the ground.

“First place, Tie Down Roping. You get good with your hands.” Olivia’s jaw went slack at that, and she tried her best (her very, very best,) not to tremble. But she did. And Casey saw. And Casey’s grin gained a wolfish tint, growing with a low, rumbling growl.

Olivia smiled a bit, stumbling back from the aggressive rumblings coming from Casey’s throat, tripping over the shirt she’d abandoned seconds before her hands had come around to her front. (Thank God, because really, Olivia might not’ve been able to control herself if she’d been bound from behind.) Gulping visibly, she fell back to sit on the bed, biting her bottom lip and swallowing hard once more as Casey advanced on her, two fingers pressed to her shoulder knocking her onto her back.

Licking her lips, Casey scratched her nails over Liv’s collarbones, across lace-covered breasts and down toned abs until they found the hem of her jeans at about mid-thigh. As she tugged off the skin-tight denim, Liv’s hips rising to help the effort, Casey murmured against the skin she was revealing inch by torturous inch.

“Y’know, I think you were pretty much a straight bitch to my little Cherry in the bar tonight.” Liv’s head shot up from where it’d fallen back onto the comforter, apology bright in her eyes.

“I-I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t, Casey--”

“No, you did. Because you were jealous. It’s happened before,” she stated casually, a nonchalant one-shoulder shrug offered as the jeans were worked past Olivia’s knees, the tender backs of which were given nips and delicate strokes.

“…but..” Liv was struck slightly speechless at the jealousy comment, half of her knowing it was true and the other half (the prideful one) wanting to deny the claim vehemently. “Wait, your Cherry?” she asked, enough emphasis on the ‘your’ to make Casey smile against the olive calf she’d been kissing.

“Yes, mine. Got a problem?”
</div>

Rockstar Universe

2007-10-09T23:31:55Z

14. Massage Therapist/Client“You really don’t have to do this, Alex,” Olivia said as the blonde tugged her into the spa.

“Trust me, yes I do, Liv. God, have you ever treated yourself to something like this?” She signed in absently, making sure her friend wasn’t going to bolt from the country club’s entryway.

Olivia fidgeted, Alex’s forceful grip on her wrist foiling her attempt to edge toward the door. “Well, no, not exactly. I’ve had stuff worked out by chiropractors before, for serious injuries. But massages? Alex, I’m not exactly the weekend mani-pedi type.” The dubious brow didn’t deter the ADA, and she simply dragged Olivia through her monthly routine.

“Well you’re here now, so too bad. Since you’ve never done this before, I’ll kinda explain as we go along,” Alex said, stripping behind her own privacy screen and donning the pale blue robe falling to mid-thigh.

“Gee, thanks,” Olivia grumbled from behind her curtain, feeling terribly exposed in just underwear beneath her own silky magenta robe.

Smiling cheerfully, the lawyer linked arms with her reluctant companion and led them through the spa’s hallways, the Detective’s tension ebbing away in the calming, earth-colored environment with soothing music playing from discrete speakers. It took her a second to realize she was walking barefoot, but the plush carpet beneath her toes was simply delightful. She shook her head, coming out of her reverie as Alex’s voice came back into focus. They were walking by a large room with glass walls and doors, the people inside lounging in relaxing mud-baths and looking quite content.

“…the steam baths are over here,” and the blonde swept an arm at a hallway to their left with the airy nonchalance of a regular member. “These rooms,” she said as they pushed through yet another doorway, entering a courtyard garden with three floors circling a koi fish pond, fountains and benches among fragrant plant life, “are all for facials, massages and wraps. First floor facials, second floor wraps, third floor massages.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, she tried to mask her amazement with humor, giving a soft whistle and chuckling. “Damn. You come here often, Cabot? ‘Cause you certainly seem to know your way around.”

“Yes, I do, and believe me when I tell you it is heaven on earth. They have some of the best masseuses in the state.”

“Oooh. Gimme one of those, I think I’ve still got knots from my first year on the job.”

“Ah ah, not yet,” Alex chided, wagging a finger at her suddenly eager friend. Smiling, she led them into a first floor room and sat Liv down in a chair before perching lightly in the one next to it, an attendant appearing in less than a minute.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Cabot, what can we get for you today?”

“I’d like to get two Deluxe Wellness packages today, for me and my friend, but save the Swedish for last, Annette.”

The peppy brunette nodded, smiling a little too brightly at the ADA to be ‘just friendly’. “Anything for you, ma’am. I’ll just grab Jenny and we’ll start on your facials straightaway.” Alex simply smiled at the girl, who fiddled with the hem of her white skirt nervously before failing to hide a blush.

“Thank you, Annette,” Alex all but purred. Nodding, the young woman slid away like a bleached blur, white obviously the uniform of the day. Glancing around, she saw through a small window in the door that men were dressed similarly with white slacks and simple polos to match the women.

Arching a brow at the ADA as she lay back to lounge in the padded chair, Alex gave her a look that simply read, “What?”

That quirky smile appeared on Olivia’s lips, answering with a bit of an eyebrow flick, silent conversation passing across the room (“You just seem awful friendly, is all,”) as Annette -and a blonde she assumed to be Jenny- started assembling carts between them. The trolleys were stacked with jars of varying size and color, with words like ‘exfoliation’, ‘extraction’, ‘rejuvenating masks’, ‘superdermapeel’ (that one scared her a bit) and a host of other beauty/science words on the plethora of lotions. The trolley was equipped to the nines, the lotions and creams among several folded towels, some hand sanitizer, cotton swabs and what looked to be a headband matching her robe.

Rolling her eyes (which was the equivalent of something like, “Shut up”), the slender blonde brushed her hair up into a loose bun, headband pulling away the last stubborn strands from her face. Jenny smiled down at Olivia, a little less peppy and more along the calm, “Hi, I’m Jen and I’ll be your facialist for the next hour or so,” lines Liv could handle.

Still a little uncomfortable with being pampered so much, the cop tried her best to settle into the chair and concentrate on the music playing in her ears.

About an hour later, Olivia sat up from the chair, stretching and sighing happily. Alex arched a brow, perfectly sculpted -and even touched up for free. (Olivia just knew she was something more than a regular customer. She KNEW it.) “Well, someone’s certainly getting into the swing of things.”

“Thank you, Jen, that was amazing. It hurt a little, but God, I can’t wait to look amazing. I understand why you do this now, Alex. Your skin is gorgeous.”

“Thank Annette.” And the girl beamed.

“This way to your Lavender Sea Salt Scrub and Seaweed -or Mud, if you prefer- wrap.”

The two women followed with low chatter, Alex smacking Olivia’s arm as the Detective smirked at her own smartass comment about her friend and their peppy masseuse.

Another hour and a half later, after Alex had showered off her mud, Liv had unwrapped her seaweed and the two of them felt totally refreshed and smelled distinctly of lavender, Olivia felt like she might have to be wheeled out of the building if she got anymore relaxed.

“Seriously, Alex. I don’t think I need the massage. Thank you, Jen,” she said as they left the room, the two girls finally leaving them and directing them to 331A for their final treatment.

They walked into the rather small room. The coziness could be attributed to the intimate intent for atmosphere, and privacy, with only two frosted windows in the door and wall to the courtyard, sunlight filtering in and giving the room a natural, low glow. Olivia’s brows furrowed at the sight of only one massage bed. Turning, she looked to Alex as the blonde ushered her behind a screen.

“Why is there only one bed? You’re staying with me, right?”

“No,” the ADA said airily, a lazy finger gesturing toward her robe, “probably not.”

“Whaddya mean, ‘probably not’?” she asked, her voice squeaking uncharacteristically as she slowly shed her underwear and dropped it into the bag provided. “You’re either staying or going, Alex, you’re kind of a regular and I bet you have a regular package deal, thanks to Annette,” she couldn’t help remarking, a towel thrown in her face for the quip.

“Shut up about that already! God, if you would open your eyes you would’ve seen the way Jenny was looking at you but nooo, you’re blind as a bat and still need to get laid.” Rolling her eyes, Alex crossed her arms, glancing to the clock on the far wall. “Alright. You’re getting a two hour massage. Casey’ll rub you down with a mix of--”

“Casey?” Olivia asked, obviously assuming it was another of Alex’s little friends, her magenta robe flipping over the top of the bamboo screen as the ivory clad girl slipped in. Alex winked, a finger coming to her lips to ask for silence. The redhead winked back, her hair swinging around in a high pony tail as she opened her pack quietly, spreading out her materials.

“Yeah, Casey Novak. She’s one of the best here, probably in the state,” Alex said, the girl’s momentary pause and red ear tops enough to reveal her blush. Grinning, the blonde kept talking at her friend through the screen. “Trust me, if you say you’ve got knots from four years ago, she’ll dig through all that muscle and not only find it, she’ll kick its butt and make it wish it never pained you.”

Smiling brightly, Casey slid into a closet to grab another towel when Liv sidled out in the tiniest towel known to man. It barely encompassed her voluptuous breasts on top and cupped her round butt at the bottom with just an inch to spare. Grumbling about the length of the bleached towel, the Detective ran a hand through her ruffled brown locks and closed her eyes, a hand sliding over them to block out the dim light. Casey backed out of the closet and knocked it shut with a hip, the hinges silent and the click hidden by Alex’s voice.

“Well, Liv, I’m off for a steam bath and a massage of my own, but I’ll be back for you in a couple hours… maybe longer, if Annette is there, yes,” she said, hitting the grinning Detective in the shoulder before smiling herself. “I’ll leave you in Casey’s spectacular, capable hands, Olivia,” and with that, the blonde waltzed out, intent on finding that little brunette and earning a free package next time around.

Clapping her hands, Casey turned around, the white pleated skirt flipping to reveal more of her pale skin in the whirl -as it was supposed to-, straightening her polo for a second as Olivia uncovered her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows.

“Well, I hope you’re ready for me and my-- duhhh… wow,” Casey stammered, her confident intro falling into a wide-eyed murmur as her green hues slid over that smoking hot body.

Oh, yeah. That was really articulate for a law school grad interning at Langan & Taylor. Granted, it was perfectly acceptable for any lawyer to be rendered inarticulate at the sight of a scruffy Olivia Benson wrapped in a teeny towel, stretched out languidly on a massage table with that damn half smirk tugging at one corner of her berry lips with disheveled brown locks framing her face. Liv couldn’t help the one brow that arched at the masseuse’s sudden hush.

“I take it you’re Casey?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, starting into motion and shaking her head, her red-gold hair swishing as she tugged nervously at the hem of her shirt. “Yes, I’m Casey and I’m here to serve you for the next two hours, Miss Benson.”

“That’s Detective, and you might as well call me Olivia,” the brunette’s eyes following the allegedly spectacular fingers to play along the skin at the hem of that short skirt briefly before her eyes flicked back up, chocolates looking smoky in the muted light.

“Right. Detective. Olivia.” Smooth, Case. Make a fool of yourself in front of the woman. Mentally smacking herself in the forehead, she hooked the trolley with her sandaled foot, hating every piece of the stupid white uniform, and slid it over, wheels silent over more plush carpet.

“If you’ll lie face down on the table and cover just your backside with the towel, I’ll get started,” Casey said, finally glad for the standard instructions to cover her speechlessness. (I mean, seriously. Who wouldn’t be?) Casey turned her back for privacy as Olivia shifted quickly, sighing heavily as the pads of the table molded to her body.

“Ready,” she murmured, glancing over to see Casey applying lotion to her hands before warming them on a small metal plate, the heated attachment on the cart melting the balm just enough for it to spread thinly over Olivia’s arms, shoulders, back, skipping down to her thighs and over each full leg in a few long strokes.

The thickness and flexibility of her musculature were surprising and Casey’s stomach lurched nervously. The redhead was puzzled for the source of her reaction -well, DUH- and realized with a start that this was the first time she’d ever encountered such a beautiful woman that incited this reaction. Trying to carefully pick her way over the Detective’s diabolically toned legs without a slip of the hand, she slowly kneaded her way from ankle to knee, taking special care with Liv’s tense calves.

“Oh, God,” she groaned, the sound not lost on the masseuse and inciting another acrobatic stomach move. “Where did you--holy…what are you doing to me?” Olivia had never felt anything so good, and knew she’d be coming back from now on; if not for the perky redhead, at least for the satisfaction of truly relaxed muscles. Her back arched a bit and then she slumped as a knot was worked out of her hamstring. “Thank you, that’s been bothering me for weeks-- ohhhh, yes!”

Casey fumbled, one knee buckling at the reverberating moan that had just passed her client’s oh-so-kissable-*Stop it, Casey!*-lips, and her hand slipped from the back of Liv’s thigh in between her legs, sliding back out just as quickly. Olivia bit back a gasp at the rush of heat to her cheeks and her stomach at the feeling that quick swipe caused. Choosing to ignore her slip-up (no pun intended), the massage therapist smiled a bit.

“I’m mixing Swedish techniques with Shiatsu, plus I’ll eventually add a little reflexology and acupressure. With a bit of oil,” she added as she took the warmed bottle and applied a daub to the small of Olivia’s back. What Casey couldn’t ignore was the shiver that ran up the woman’s delicious spine as the warm liquid made contact with her skin. Olivia gripped the edge of the padded table for a second, completely surprised at her lack of self control. Get a hold of yourself, Liv! She’s just a kid! Besides, it’s not like she’s into y--

“Ow, sonuva-- what was that?!” Olivia’s thoughts were interrupted as it felt like a minor explosion went off just above her butt. Wincing and arching her back in an effort to get away, she heard Casey’s voice above her try to explain.

“Sorry, I know that hurts but it feels like you’ve wrenched your back more than once without ever really doing anything about it. After a bit I’m sure it didn’t feel too bad but the compounding of injury has tightened the lower half of your levatores costarum, which is just a fancy name for the deep muscles in your back. Getting the blood flowing will release a lot of your tension almost immediately--” and as she said it, Olivia suddenly slumped into the table, sounding completely content-- was she? Holy fucking hell, the woman was purring for God’s sake!

Casey almost fell over this time, and her hands slipped down from their slow, back-and-forth swoosh to just under the edge of that towel, swooshing over the top of Liv’s buttocks. Biting her lip, Casey went back up Olivia’s spine, refreshing the oil and using two fingers along the cop’s vertebrae, weakening the brunette before she could resist.

Olivia’s eyebrows rose at the touch and so did her ass, fractionally, missing the touch almost as soon as it was there and gone. Forcing her hips down onto the table, Olivia swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and hoped that the fire in her belly wouldn’t get stoked anymore. Twisting her head so she could watch the girl work, she found herself eyelevel with perfectly smooth, silky fair skin, the white skirt falling just at Casey’s mid thigh. Licking her lips, she arched a brow, glancing up to see the masseuse’s brows furrowed in slight concentration as her fingertips kneaded circles along her shoulders.

Lips twitching into a smirk, she took in a deep breath and sighed, “un”intentionally blowing out her breath in a cool stream aimed at Casey’s thighs. The brunette’s jaw tightened in an effort to hide the grin at the shiver that threatened to collapse the girl.

What the fuck! It was bad enough this woman was stacked but did she have to blow at her skirt? God, Casey had always hated the short uniform. Until now. Now, the five inch scrap -as she liked to call it- was about her favorite piece of clothing. Her hands went on auto pilot, kneading absently as her eyes fluttered closed. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan, and forced it out as more of a grunt as her arm muscle showed visibly, her fingers digging into Olivia’s side enough to elicit a complaint.

“Holy--owowowowwwah!” she whined, the last ‘ow’ drawled out into two syllables. (Yeah. Casey almost melted at that too.) “Do you have to do that so hard?” Olivia was surprised at the high pitch her voice had taken on but was helpless to remove it. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table again, tears threatening to fall at the near-crossing of the pleasure/pain line.

“Hang on for me for about one more minute, sweetheart, and I promise I’ll move on to the Shiatsu technique. This is just your last knot, and I swear -oomph, Jesus, woman- it feels like a baseball is wedged in between your ribs…”

Olivia gasped at the nickname that fell so carelessly from Casey’s lips, but was lucky it could be attributed to a sudden wave of ecstasy rolling from the suddenly loose muscle. “Oh, GOD, yes!” she mumbled, followed by a series of obscenely low, rumbling groans of pleasure. The woman needed a sign or something: Beware Deep Groans - May Cause Unexpected Orgasms.

The redhead’s thighs clenched together, feeling a surge of heat and wetness pool between her legs. Hoping that her arousal wasn’t too obvious, she finished her last sweeping rub-down, palms smoothing over the olive plane of skin before her, pale slender fingers working their way up around the tense muscles of her shoulders.

“Glad you’re enjoying this”, she commented, not wanting the silence -or indecent moaning- to continue for too long without some interruption. Olivia nodded into the cutout for her face, having wiggled back into the regular comfortable position once more.

“Yuhuh.” Smooth, Liv. Impress her with your extensive vernacular. Grinning, Casey let her lithe digits slide up to the base of Liv’s neck and spread out over the muscles along the curve from neck to shoulder, all her fingers rippling and manipulating the muscle as if she were playing a piano instead of with Olivia’s libido.

Casey swallowed hard and adjusted the table a bit, pulling out a stool and positioning herself behind Liv, who was now at about 70 degree angle or so, still leaning forward but sitting up enough for Casey to maneuver around her entire back. “What are you doing now?” Olivia asked, not really curious due to her intense state of relaxation. Hell, the woman could’ve been about to steal her clothes and leave her outside in the courtyard. At this point, Liv was about past caring. She had never felt this good (in more ways than she’d like to admit) in a long time; maybe ever.

“You don’t have to sit up at all, the table does enough for you. I’m just going to use acupressure for now, then use a little general massage before the final rub-down.”

Olivia was about to respond but all that escaped her was a sort of strangled, “Unghhhm,” because she suddenly felt Casey’s knuckle press into a point at the top of her spine and her back arched but her head flopped forward and a rush of blood carried bliss throughout her body (matching the crash of heat flooding Casey’s thighs at the sounds Olivia was making).

Grinning a bit, Casey hummed quietly as she worked, her fingertips prodding with a deep pressure for a count of five, then releasing slowly. Her deft fingers dug into the muscles just above her shoulder blades, the quick pressure making her brows furrow and relax with the stress ebbing away from her body. After a few more strategic pokes at the back of her neck, tops of her shoulders, creases of her elbows and small of her back, Casey leaned around to check that her client wasn’t asleep.

“Olivia?”

“Hmm?” the Detective mumbled lazily, purring once more and turning halfway around, completely forgetting that she was naked except for the towel slipping around the curve of her hips. Casey’s heart had jumped up into her throat and was beating out a wonderful samba beat, but she managed to respond normally.

“Just checking to see you hadn’t passed out under these magic fingers,” she said, wiggling the mentioned digits before her hand gently slid down Olivia’s arm, squeezing lightly around her firm bicep. The brunette gasped softly, eyes going wide and sudden realization dawning on her. She wasn’t sure whether to flail and make a big deal or try to play it off, but then Casey solved the problem for her.

Casey held her breath as she ran her fingers up Olivia’s sides, eliciting a full body shiver before her hands cupped each breast and pulled her gently back until Olivia was resting against Casey’s chest, the redhead’s own nipples peaking the same as Liv’s against her smooth palms. “Guess not, hm?” she asked, murmuring into Olivia’s ear and letting her breath flow over the skin there.

Gripping the edge of her seat for comfort, Olivia shook her head jerkily, her body melting under each gentle caress from the younger woman. “N-no,” she stammered, cursing herself for the stutter. Then Casey’s fingers squeezed around her breasts very faintly, asking permission and suddenly she didn’t care if she would never speak again. “GUH.” There was a dull thunk as Liv’s forehead fell forward against the headrest.

Breathing hard and unable to explain the huge magnetism this woman had, Casey wondered at the boldness of her own fingers as they molded sculpted, round mounds of flesh, each movement earning her another set of rolling moans and sighs. Deciding to play it off as if she meant things to go that way, her hands flattened over Liv’s stomach, sliding against the taut muscle she found there (everywhere, really, the woman was toned as hell) down to the barrier of a towel still hiding Olivia’s hips.

“Do you want…” Casey began, her hands sliding down Olivia’s thighs, her lips just pressed against the outer shell of Liv’s ear, the scruffy brown tresses tickling the lawyer’s nose. “Me…” and her fingers slid along the seam of her thighs, Olivia’s hips rocking forward and her legs spreading open as if Casey were undoing a zipper. “To…” and each hand slid against the sensitive skin of an inner thigh, fingers kneading their way from knee to just where the edge of the towel still managed to hide her from view. Casey lifted one hand, almost returning it at the piteous mewling Liv made at the loss of contact but continued, her fingers turning Liv’s head so that her lips grazed one cheek.

“Touch you?”

Olivia was speechless. In the course of a day Alex had convinced her to go to a spa, she’d been hit on, massaged, pampered and offered things she’d never dreamed of from a beautiful young woman with lust in her eyes. There was no way in hell she’d ever turn that down. Licking her lips, she kissed Casey once, pulling away the towel at the same time and tossing it aside. Voice husky with desire, she managed to whisper, “Yes.”

And that was all the incentive Casey needed. With a growl of delight the redhead thrust two fingers into the Detective’s waiting center, almost groaning with the feeling of sinking into the slick, hot opening without any further effort. Olivia moaned, loudly, one hand falling to Casey’s thigh as the pale legs wrapped around her waist. “OHHHH, GOD YES!”

Casey pumped slowly at first, her fingers wiggling as she added a third digit and slowly curled them within the Detective, gently making a ‘come hither’ motion against the hot, velvety walls. Her other hand snaking around to find Liv’s clit, she took it softly between two fingertips, pulling at the tender bud delicately before plunging her three fingers up to the knuckle. Biting down on Olivia’s neck just below her ear, the brunette felt her juice flow past Casey’s fingers at the possessive growl she heard before the pace picked up from urgent to frantic. (Edit: from frantic to ‘Idon’tthinkIcanfuckyouanyfasterbutI’msureashellwillingtotry’.)

With the way Olivia had been worked up over the course of her massage, it wasn’t going to take much for Case to push her over the edge. She only hoped she could hold out long enough to satisfy the redhead, because for some reason she couldn’t explain she didn’t think she’d be able to handle disappointing the masseuse.

Both women were caught in the escalating ecstasy, whimpers, moans and groans from each woman melding and meshing into a crescendo as Casey plunged her tongue into Olivia’s ear. The unexpected sensation sent her spiraling over the edge and her body tensed for one long moment at her climax before she gushed over Casey’s fingers, panting and murmuring the girl’s name over and over. “Casey, Casey, oh my God, Casey…”

Kissing the brunette’s suddenly sweaty cheek, Casey smiled, withdrawing her fingers after a few more lazy swirls against her molten folds. Lifting the coated fingers to her lips she licked and sucked off each drop of Olivia’s honey to a vividly-watching Detective.

A bit smug, Casey purred, “Told you. Magic fingers.”

The client smirked as she recovered and she adjusted herself so that they faced each other, Liv leaning back against the slightly reclined table-seat with Casey’s spread legs before her. “I will hand it to you, Case. Those are some damn good fingers. I haven’t had a better massage,” she said. Leaning forward at Casey’s quick stand and embarrassed blush (more to the account of wondering whether she hadn’t lived up to the mature woman’s expectations), she took the girl by the chin and kissed her firmly. Tongue delving into Casey’s mouth, Olivia dominated the kiss suddenly and surely. Pulling away with a satisfied smack, she licked her lips and ran a thumb over Casey’s, tasting herself on those sweet lips.

“And I’ve never come like that before. Ever.”

Well that was an ego boost! The redhead blushed furiously, eyes dropping and hiding behind soft gold bangs. Pulling self-consciously at her sticky polo, she bit her bottom lip and smiled shyly, finally chancing a glance up at the gorgeous olive-skinned woman.

Emboldened by Casey’s initial courage to make a move, Olivia slipped a hand under that white skirt, receiving a delightful whimper from Casey’s full red lips. Brown eyes glazing with lust, one brow arched, that smirk appearing again, this time filled with a predator’s victory as she looked into Casey’s bright green eyes and felt her soaking wet panties.

“How long did Alex say she’d be gone again?”

This time, Casey’s knees finally gave out.

-Fin-
</div>